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( SHANDY MAGUIRE. ) 1 /j V ' 


"I'd rather know the lines I penned 
Made one hour pass more cheerily, 
More lightly and less wearily, 
Than know that readers drearily 

Went blubbering on from end to end." 

mm 29 'i 


1886. / ^ V7^ 

Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1886, 


In the Olllce of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 





it^ Pcmlrev^ Jaithf ul to §nU^ and Hln;sclf i;&h h\ f nil, 






In presenting to the public the following collection 
of verses — dignified by my friends with the title of 
poems — I conform to the wishes of many corres- 
pondents of mine, scattered over various sections of 
the country. It is needless for me to say that I 
claim no merit whatever for them. The major part 
of them were written to gratify my own whims, as 
the various subjects would present themselves to 
me ; and they mirror my mind at the time of their 

My object in writing a preface is to explain the 
tone of several articles, which have appeared in the 
columns of the Engineer s Monthly Journal^ to 
readers who were acquainted with my social position 
at the time of their publication, and who have yet 
to learn why I assumed the character I did. In 
May, 1873, there were several members of the 
Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers assembled in 
the room of Sub-division No. 152, located at Oswego, 
N. Y., waiting for the time to arrive to commence 
the proceedings. The Joiirnals for April were being 
distributed, and many complaints were made that 
the columns were full of letters from engineers' 


wives. One bachelor in our midst, on the shady- 
side of forty, said he wished he were a Benedict and 
he would insist on his wife joining the army of con- 
tributors. After considerable criticism, carried on 
in a carping mood, I was requested to take the matter 
up, in behalf of Division 152, and solicit wives for 
those who were lacking them, so we could add our 
quota to those who were writing over the signatures 
of "Wife of an Engineer of Division So and So." 
I took the hint and wrote the verses headed : " A 
Member of One-Fifty-Two," and adopted a 710m de 
plume. During the time I remained incognito, I 
not only enjoyed fun myself, but contributed to the 
enjoyment of all who were in the secret, and many 
a hearty laugh we had at the numerous enquiries 
l/ made to know " who is Shandy Maguire?" After 
about two years the secret was discovered, but not 
before the nom de plume had attained notoriety from 
Manitoba to the Gulf of Mexico, and from the At- 
lantic to the Pacific, amongst the railroad fraternity. 
This I say without the slightest intention of boasting. 
If I cannot claim merit for my productions, I 
certainly can claim that a great many of them were 
constructed under very novel circumstances ; planned 
in the cab of a locomotive, many of them written by 
the flickering light of the gauge-lamp, or at an open 
furnace door, or when 


*' Stalled in huge snow drifts as high as the stack " 

waiting for the shovellers to dig us out, meditated 
or final words jostled out, passing over rough joints, 
at a rate of speed of sixty miles an hour. 

Those who have read my contributions to the 
Engineer s Journal will find them in the following 
pages in the order in which they appeared in that 
valuable publication. They are interspersed with 
others, in as near the same order in which they were 
written as a hasty compilation would permit, and the 
whole are now launched forth to public view "with 
all their imperfections on their head." 

The Author. 



In a listless mood reclining-, 

On the flower-spang-led heather, 
Where the clover-scented breezes 

Kissed my forehead with their balm, 
There a maiden sat beside me. 

Both our hearts entwined tog-ether. 
As we ling-ered in the g-loaming- 

Of that evening- 's summer calm. 

Down the west the sun descended. 

And athw^art the sky the streamers 
Flashed in g-lorious g-olden splendor. 

On that eve of long- ag'o ; 
There delig-hted, fdled with raptui^e. 

Like a pair of ang-el dreamers. 
We enjoyed the scene of g-randeur. 

And the day-God's parting- g-low. 

Up the east fair Luna floated, 

Throug-h the ambient air serenely, 
And the stars beg-an to twinkle 

In the distant dome of nig-ht ; 
With intoxicated rapture 

I beheld my lover queenly. 
As her eyes were g-rowing- humid 

With such visions of delii^-ht. 


We Avere young-. No cloud of sadness 

Dimmed the morning- hopes we cherished, 
Not a wave swept our horizon 

That could make our hearts despond ; 
And our love, as pure and holy 

As ere cloistered virgins' nourished. 
Made us happy and contented 

In its idolizing bond. 

Ere the moment came for parting 

From our Eden, she consented 
To entwine her life's 3^oung fancies 

With the ho^^sh hope of mine ; 
With embraces chaste and fervid. 

Our betrothal was cemented. 
As pressed closely to my bosom 

She did fearlessly recline. 

Man}^ 3^ears in Time's great ocean 

Have been steadily increasing 
Since we drifted from the vista 

Of our early, youthful bloom ; 
But the love implanted truly. 

Will exist through life unceasing, 
And o'er death Avill rise triumphant. 

To survive beyond the tomb. 



Messrs. Wilson and Greene : I'm an old country 

From the soles of my boots to m}^ g-reasy old 

I am roug-h and unlettered, untutored in mind, 
Yet, a g-ood-hearted fellow as ever^^ou'll find. 
I know ev'ry daughter and son of my mother, 
Yet thousands on thousands address me as 

The reason I'll tell confidential to you : 
Because I'm a member of One-Fifty-Two. 

So much for niyself, now a word for the boys — 
The fifty brave fellows each comp'ny employs ; 
Officials have boasted no better are found, 
To do their whole duty the universe round. 
And dear Mr. Wilson, if e're you come o'er 
To our beautiful town on Ontario's shore, 
Ther's a cead millie failthe^ awaiting for you 
From all of the members of One-Fifty-Tvvo. 

I notice each month as tlie Journal appears. 
Affectionate letters which melt me to tears. 
From those interested in all of our lives, 
(God bless them, the darlings ! ) the engineers' 

* A buDdred thousatid welcoiues. 


Oh ! lucky ^^pkig'-pullers- ' how bless'd is your lot, 
Returnhig- at nig-ht to 3^our own little cot, 
To see the brig-ht smiles there awaiting- on you. 
And forty wives wanting in One-Fift^^-Two. 

Now beautiful readers, a word in your ear, 
It comes from a heart that is true and sincere ; 
A bachelor's life for m^^self has no charms, 
I'll chang-e for a pair of affectionate arms. 
And, faith ! I will love her whoever she'll be 
She'll never reg-ret being- wedded to me — 
Whoever shall wish a good husband to boast. 
May drop me a line by return of the post. 

I wish a long life to the B. of L. E., 
If true to our motto long lived we shall be ; 
In union is strength, if united we stand. 
We'll be recognized as a power in the land. 
The i)rayers of the widows and orphans ascend 
To Heaven, to bless us, for proving their friend 
Reward we'll receive, it awaits us in store. 
When brakes are set down on eternitv's shore. 



Messrs. Wilson and Greene: 'Tis the urgent 

Of your ardent admirer, named Shandy Magaiii'e, 
To be g-ranted a pass in the Journal, if so, 
I will whistle off brakes, as aboard I do g-o. 
I hope a reward you'll receive for the time 
You squander, correcting- this dog-g-erel rhyme ; 
Then all of my critics may g-o to the deuce, 
I care not a fig- for their caustic abuse. 

One critic I love — as I wrote in July — 
The clear azure depths of a bonnie bright eye, 
To send through my soul an affectionate dart. 
And soothe with its glances my whimsical heart. 
I know of a fair one as bright as the dawn. 
With footsteps as light as a wood-nymph or fawn . 
She prays for my weal ev'ry morning and night. 
And welcomes me home with sincerest delight. 

Experience has taught on the railroad of life 

The time-card to run by's a virtuous wife. 

The grades may be heavy and tedious to climb, 

Her precepts are certain to keep us on time. 

The curves may be short, the embankments be 

Her prayers for our safety reaches the sky, 


They rise from a heart of affectionate love, 
To the throne of the Master Mechanic above I 

I'll state to the brothers all over the land, 
Thoug-h young-, our Division up bravely can 

stand ; 
Financially truly, fraternally too, 
Are virtues prevailing- in One-Fifty-Two. 
And now the ^^salt pointers" just wheel into line. 
They fling- out the banner of One- Sixty-Nine ; 
Success may attend them and g-uide them arig-ht. 
Last star, thoug-h not least, of our g-alaxy brig-ht. 

Success to our Brotherhood, flashing- on hig'h. 
The strong-est which floats 'neath Columbia's 

sky ; 
It g-uards us securely with counsels sincere. 
And olTers protection to each eng-ineer. 
Oh ! far in the future, sincerely I pray, 
Be g'lory around it as brig-ht as to-day. 
Lord answer my prayer is the urg-ent desire 
Of one of its members called — Shand^^ Mag-uire. 



(Mr. James Cronley.) 

Dear Jim, since Pete Blair has been captured at 

And took to his bosom a wife, 
Sincerely to make all amends for the past, 

In penance the rest of his life. 
Remember, 'tis time that yourself should forsake 

The tricks of the bachelor clan. 
By towing" some g-irl rig-ht into your wake, 

And steering- through life like a man. 

Consider how happy your pipe you can smoke, 

As both of you sit by the fire ; 
How sweetlj^ she'll laugh and ne'er think that 
you joke, 

When swearing she's all you admire ! 
She'll list to the jsums you'll truthfully spin. 

Of desolate days you have known. 
As nobly you steered through the breakers of sin. 

Unloved through this world and alone ! 

In a few fleeting years, an old hulk you will be. 

Without either rigging or spars ; 
You will roll in the trough of a bachelor sea^ 

The same as all otlier old tars ; 


And if married, you'll coast near those spice- 
laden vales, 
Where hrig-ht orang-e blossoms are seen, 
With cool zephyrs to sing- in your sweet-scented 
In Benedict waters serene ! 

Oh ! Jim, think of that ! You are bashful I know. 

And rather inclined to despair ; 
Up courage ! my boy, and a wife-hunting go, 

Indeed, you are as handsome as Blair I 
But if 3^ou should fail in 3^our cruise for a wife 

Don't ever sit down and repine ; 
For, sooner than see you run single throuh life, 

Old pard ! get instructions from mine ! 


Ah, Salsie, my darling ! I've lately been dreaming 
That you are the g-irl whom I've looked for so 
long ; 

You stole to my bosom like morning's first 

And won this response to your exquisite song-- 
I find in that answer 3^ou sent to my ditty. 

Of all your admirers 3^0 u love me the most 


I'm sure you are handsome, truehearted, and 
Inferred from your lines "by return of the 

Now "Salsie'' — that name I will change if no 
Will come from yourself, my affectionate ^g-al' 
Henceforth, till we meet the good priest at the 
I'll call you the brief little pet name of "Sal." 
"Make haste to the wedding-" your motto must 
be, love. 
Long- courtships are foolish when states inter- 
I'm anxious your sweet smiling features to see, 
I burn from my boots to my greasy caubeen. 

But Sal, here's a secret I'll whisper to you, love, 

There is not a dollar of cash in my purse, 
I had a few dozen, banks bursted, my true love, 

The time of the panic, I give it my curse. 
And both of my eyes are fast fading from weep- 
To think I'm as poor as a hungry church 
mouse ; 
My trouble, dear Sal, whether waking or sleep- 



Is — have you some traps till we g-o ^'keeping- 
house ?" 

I've a stove, which was used many years by my 

A wood burner, Sal, with a fearful exhaust ; 
Its nozzles I'll open or else it will smother, 

And wood is so dear we must look to the cost. 
A bedstead and bed, love, a pail and a ladle ; 

A few earthen dishes, and coffee pot, too ; 
And, darling- ! I've also the family cradle, 

As useful to-day as when first it was new. 

A heart that loves work, and two hands to 
assist, love. 

Beside what I've mentioned above in detail. 
If you have the rest, then I pray don't desist, 

Until under colors of wedlock we sail. 
My brothers all say in our noble Division, 

Considering 3^our wishes for One- Fifty-Two, 
They'll vote a donation, make ample provision. 

To testify all their good feelings for 3^ou. 

And now in conclusion, mj^ true love eternal 
I send to 3^ou Sal, beloved of m^^ life. 

Soon all my dear brothers can read in the Journal 
Another Avho'll sign herself : — " Engineer's 


They'll know, after reading-, you're really con- 
They never need pause your dear name to 
For, darling-, you'll tell them you never repented 
The day you became Mrs. Shandy Maguire. 


Old wife, come sit beside me now, 

For I can scarcely see 
The sadness stamped upon your brow. 

Nor ming-le tears with thee. 
The fount is dried, the lids are seared 

From keen and constant pain, 
The worst has come, what oft I feared. 

Though seldom did complain. 

The moments of my life are brief. 

Its tide is ebbing fast. 
And death will quickly bring relief. 

From all my ills at last. 
But you will have to linger on. 

Within this vale of woe. 
Alone, dear wife, when I am gone. 

For God has willed it so. 


I now am bless'd with inward g-aze, 

And thing's long- passed I spy ; 
For death dispels the mental haze, 

Obscuring- times gone by. 
I now behold the little cot, 

Beside the winding- stream, 
Where first my eyes beheld you, love. 

Like angels in a dream. 

Oh, we were young and happy then, 

And knew not what was care. 
Our little world was bounded by 

That valley bright and fair ; 
The humble church where we were wed. 

Before me seems to glide, 
Where to the altar rail I led, 

You, my own blooming bride. 

For years I tilled the fruitful sod. 

And all our labors throve. 
In thanks we turned our hearts to God, 

And render'd Him our love. 
Content and plenty were our share 

Beside the river Nore, 
Good health, true friends, and prospects fair, 

Could mortals ask for more ? 


The sky-lark's song- to matins called 

Our dear domestic band, 
Each heart, with piety enthrall'd, 

Sang- praises pure and g-rand. 
The thrush and linnet told when noon 

Had come within the glade ; 
The nightingales, in joyous tune. 

Made glad the evening shade. 

Thus seasons passed, dear wife, and we 

Ne'er felt the march of time. 
Each day we labored faithfully. 

In youth's contented prime. 
We garnered in each fruitful crop. 

Our kind Creator sent. 
And found no trouble saving up 

Our greedy landlord's rent. 

So, wife, the years moved on apace. 

Our efforts seemed to thrive. 
And happiness beamed from each face 

Within that cozy hive ; 
Until the famine years came on 

And scattered death around, 
Their baneful touch was laid upon 

The crops within the ground. 


Our frug-al saving's helped to stsiy 

The wolf without the door ; 
But constant drain soon stole away 

Our little treasured store. 
The heartless tramp of marching- men, 

Smote painful on our ears, 
They came to drive us from the glen 

That sheltered us for years. 

Oh, God ! how hard to leave the spot 

We labored in so long, 
To see the little vine-clad cot. 

Wherein we reared our young — 
Pulled down to satisfy the g-reed 

Of him who owned the soil. 
Who scorned us in such direful need, 

Unrecompensed our toil. 

We g-athered close our little band 

And took a last farewell. 
Of our afflicted, native land, 

No long-er there to dwell. 
The tendrils of our hearts which twined 

Around our little home. 
Were rudely plucked by hands unkind, 

And we from there did roam. 


Beneath Atlantic's restless waves, 

Our tender offspring- sleep, 
Unmarked the spot, wherein their g-raves, 

Are 'neath the briny deep. 
They roll with many victims more 

Of landlord's cruel work, 
All driven from their native shore, 

But never reached New York. 

The climate here is hard to bear. 

Though plenty can be found. 
By those inured to biting- air. 

When wintry daj^s come round. 
We always had g-ood friends and true. 

To help us in our need. 
They'll prove the same, dear wife, to you, 

When from this earth I'm freed. 

Dear Mary, place your hand in mine, 

I'm young- and strong once more, 
I'll lead you back in youthful prime. 

Beside the sparkling- Nore ; 
We'll hear the linnet's tuneful notes. 

The sky-lark's merrj^ song. 
Our Irish birds, whose joyous throats, 

Make music all day long-. 


Ah ! here's our Uttle vine-clad cot, 

Where trelhsecl flowers bloom, 
And here's the dear, delig-htf ul spot, 

I stood a happy g-room. 
But where are our three children, dear. 

Who made our lives so g-ay ? 
Alas ! I cannot find them here ; 

Good wife, they're out at play. 

They're calling- me to join their pranks, 

I'll leave 3^ou for awhile. 
To sport with them on primrose banks. 

In this our native isle. 
A smile upon his features stole. 

His days of life were o'er. 
For angels took his sinless soul, 

Where parting* is no more. 


Sobriety stands as our motto the first. 

And ever by us must be cherished ; 
Ilemember,dear brothers, intemperance is cursed, 

And thousands, by drinking, have perished. 
Touch it not — taste it not — ^^handle not tlien 

The cause of much sadness and weeping. 
But true to our motto, we'll prove ourselves men, 

And future rewards we'll be reaping. 


Sobriety, beautiful g-em of my soul ! 

While life has a thought worth possessing, 
I'll prize thee, and keep thee within my control, 

And give thee m}^ fondest caressing ; 
I'll shield thee from all that tempestuous crew 

In Alcohol's stormy dominions ; 
I'll bear thee aloft through the firmament's blue 

When departing on fetterless i)inions. 

Dear brothers, a glance will suffice to discern 

The wrecks on life's river now sailing, 
Swept on by the tide to that mournful bourne. 

Companioned by weeping and wailing. 
So touch not the cup that is garnished with crime. 

The cause of wide-spread desolation ; 
Although it may beckon with gestures sublime. 

Concealed in its depths there's damnation. 

Aloft then our banner we'll wave to the sky. 

And rally around it like true men ; 
The public pays tribute to those who can die 

When sober, on duty, like you men. 
Our Brotherhood, then will survive ev'ry shock, 

Erected on such a foundation, 
And stand through the future, its base on that 

And pointing us on to salvation. 



(Mr. James Cronley.) 

Dear Jim : — My rude, untutor'd quill 
Cuts many a quaint and curious caper, 

Because I seek its aid, to fill 

This ample pag*e of foolscap paper. 

Old friend, I've hesitated long- 
To tell you truly and sincerely". 

In honest lines of simple song', 

I love 3^our "Old Tar's Twisters" dearly. 

Those happ3^, halcyon da^^s of yore. 

When "Jolly Jack," with flying colors, 
In ever}^ port could jump ashore. 

His pockets lined with scores of dollars. • 
Alas ! they're fading- fast away ; 

In fact, they've left us altogether, 
And only God himself can say. 

If ever more we'll meet fair weather. 

Those by-gone-da3''s, when freights were high. 

And owners all wore smiling faces. 
When royals proudly swept the sk^^. 

And shipping-masters would embrace us. 
To go with Captain " This " or " That," 

Who'd sail at noon, or maybe sooner. 
Although a meditative rat. 

Would rather starve than join the schooner 


Indeed, those were the happ3^ days — 

They'll man^^ think we write in fable — 
When telling- how we'd bend in praise 

Our knees beneath an owner's table, 
To masticate a turkey-roast ; 

No epicure could e'er surpass us, 
When stowing- tiers of quail on toast. 

Or "duff" and New Orleans molasses. 

We kept the weather-side of care. 

We also kept ourselves quite joll^^; 
We clapt a stopper on despair, 

And took a reef in melancholy. 
A boats'n's nip, or maybe two. 

Would ease all pain and start the chorus ; 
Then, let the skies be black or blue, 

We were the boys for work before us ! 

But times have changed, and so have we, 

I caught the flood-tide of reform. 
You also, Jim, forsook the sea, 

And in the sanctum braves the storm. 
But till life's tide shall cease to flow — 

Till through the pipe the cable started 
To moor us in the watcli below — 

We'll ne'er forget those days departed. 


*'Mollie Bawn," with delig-lit I did lately peruse 
The musical lines from 3'our eloquent muse ; 
I said to mj^self : " Mj dear Shand3^ 'tis wrong* 
To give no response to that sweet little song*;" 
So down in the ink goes my stub of a quill 
To tell you that I am a bachel or still ; 
But you and myself on life's course cannot run, 
Because 3^ou replied you just ^'answered for fun." 

Besides, my dear Mollie, jo\xv notions are queer, 
I don't think you'd wed with a poor engineer; 
To come to Oswego you say is too far. 
Unless I'd be willing to charter a car. 
Ah ! Mollie, my heart is a fountain of love, 
And sure as the sunlight is shining above. 
If you but consented with me to reside, 
A dra wing-room coach I'd have sent for my bride. 

But, Mollie, be serious, 'tis not your desire 
To ever become Mrs. Shandy Maguire ; 
Your nom deplumehides you securely and clever, 
My rollicking brother of throttle and lever. 
'Tis truth I am telling — I'll tell somewhat more, 
Yourself and myself have met somewhere before. 
Am I right, Mollie dear? ''why of course," 

you'll reply. 
And I know you're too cute to be caught in a lie. 


Well, "Mollie," a g-lance retrospective I'll throw. 
To that beautiful land where the orang-e trees 

g"row ; 
Where the mocking- bii'cl warbles in carols of 

To his mate that responds from the branches 

Where the sweetest of flowers ne'er cease in 

their bloom. 
Embalming- the air with delicious x)erf ume ; 
Where the song-sters, melodious, awoke me at 

Perhaps it was there we have met, "Mollie 

Bawn." • 

If so, those were days that I fain would recall. 
When the chalice of life had no mixture of gall. 
Ere the ten-per-cent-off swept the land in dismay, 
A cruel reduction of hard earned pay — 
Ere the Jug-gernaut wheels of the panic were 

To crush us by gamblers, too greedy for gold ; 
Ere the clouds of oppression cast sadness and 

O'er the men oft obliged to make duty a tomb. 

But the sun of the future, bright hope whispers, 

In splendor will shine, as on midsummer's noon. 


No g-am biers, "Mollie," can hoard up a ray, 
Of the g-lorious sunUg'ht that brig-htens our way. 
Whoever you are, your advice I'll retain. 
And always endeavor to run the right train. 
I hope you and I, when life's joui-ney is o'er, 
Will be told we're "on time" on eternity's shore. 


The H. V. is welcome, thrice welcome once more. 
To the homes and the hearts it did visit of yore ; 
It comes newly dress 'd, and glad tidings does 
bring- ; 

'Tis as welcome as birds that arrive with the 

It announces that trade is reviving once more. 
The white wings of commerce now visit our shore; 
And last, though not least, the good news it has 

That dear Doctor Re^molds is living, not dead. 

Ah, doctor, I cried till my heart nearly broke. 
When I heard 3^ou were dead, now" I laugh at 

the joke. 
I feared I should wander the rest of my life. 
All alone, with no hope of becoming your wife. 
You know that you swore by the angels above, 


No woman but me should be crowned with your 

'Tis leap-year, and now my just rig-hts I shall 

claim — 
Come forward and make Mrs. Re^^nolds my name. 

" Petticoat government " now is the cry, 

For Woodhull and Spottedtail, banners do fly ; 

So, come and I'll train you, respond to my call ; 

Victoria will be elected this Fall. 

She'll give you a place through influence of me ; 

A City Physician no longer you'll be. 

Now marry me, doctor, if not I'm afraid. 

Your darling will linger and die an old maid. 

Dear editor, speak to the doctor, asthore ! 
And I'll purchase my house-keeping ware at your 

store ; 
My wall paper, window shades, candies and toys, 
For our dear little babies, our girls and our boys, 
I am certain you keep the best stock in the town ; 
Besides you sell cheapest, your prices are down ; 
There's one thing deficient to bless you in life, 
You're just like the doctor — in need of a wife. 



Dear Editor : Here is the Journal at hand, 

For Aj)ril, freig-hted with treasures in store, 
From many g-ood writers nil over the land, 

From Mexico's g-ulf to Ontario's shore ; 
From Maine to the far distant Pacific slope 

Contributors many this month can be seen 
Expressing- contentment, new conrag-e, and hope, 

For the trio Avho're named Arthur, Ing-raham 
and Greene. 

Your pardon, dear Sirs, for presuming' to write. 

My Muse she insists unattuned I must sing-. 
The jade is now off in a fanciful flig'ht, 

Althoug-h she ne'er tasted the Helicon spring*. 
The fear of the past for our future's success 

Is lost in the sunbeam of Unity's ray; 
The prayers of the widows and orphans will bless 

The men who preside o'er our Union to-day. 

Brother Arthur, the party that bade you "g-ood- 
In Syracuse depot, are tried men and true. 
And fondly we noted the g-lance of your eye 
When you said : "At all hazards, my duty 
ITl do." 
Abe Shoemaker, Colbourne, Carroll, the three, 


Declared every word you expressed you'd 
make g'ood, 
With hope in each bosom we parted in g-lee, 

And soon you were hurried away by ''Jim" 

Our object is truly enobling', I'm sure, 

Truth, justice, and honor, are links in our chain. 
Oh ! ills upon ills may those traitors endure, 

Who'd seek to destroy us or cut us in twain. 
But if in the course of events, 'twould be found. 

That enemies e're should be met on our track. 
Do not .yield up an inch of our dearly loved g-round. 

Remember the army of boys at your back. 

Now Spring- has returned to cheer us once more. 
And here is a g-em which I found in her train : 

''Put the eng-ineer's wag-es the same as of yore," 
That means, my dear Sirs, ten-per-cent back 

So, "down in the corner" I'll hie me along-, 
And pay every cent to the Brotherhood due ; 

Besides, I will sing- a short verse of a song-, 
Not heard since the panic in One-Fifty-Two. 

To Garryowen Mike, ere I close, I will say, 

A cead millie failtlie awaits you, my boy, 
When here you'll visit, all crowned from the f ra \\ 



Which made you a ^'icto^, in railroad employ ; 
Be sure your old Baldwin is burnished and bright 

And cheerfully g-rant every little recxuest 
Of him who the throttle-valve pulls on the rig-ht, 

Then soon you'll be sporting- a B on your breast. 

To climb by g-radations is better by far 

Than to step on the deck theoretic'lly wise ; 
Good practical knowledg-e is always at par, 

What experience teaches don't ever despise. 
Now hurry along- to Ontario's shore, 

W^lien you g-et to Osweg'O blow brakes and 
And soon you'll be shown an hospitable door, 

With one who will greet you called — Shandy 


Oh, Lord, 'tis seldom that m^^ heart 

Was known to seek thy aid ; 
But let affliction pour its smart. 

How soon a charig-e is made ! 
I need no intermediate one 

To supplicate for me. 
Prostrated here before Thy throne 

I kneel in prayer to Thee. 


The chiuxhmen tell 'tis 3^our desire 

That they should intercede, 
To save us from Your dreadful ire — 

It is a selfish creed. 
I don't believe such doctrines, Lord, 

For when on earth You came, 
You ming-led in, Avith full accord, 

Among-st the hlind and lame. 

Cathedral spires may g-randly rise, 

And bells with joyous peal. 
May penetrate the vaulted skies, 

With fervid human zeal ; 
But reason taught me long- ago 

That from this breast of mine, 
My thoughts in penitential floAv, 

• Can. reach Thy throne divine. 

You ne'er intended wealth should buy 

Our everlasting weal ; 
Yet oft on earth unshrived we lie. 

And pierced by churchmen's steel. 
Who barter all your graces here 

With parsimonious g-reed. 
Where we must buy salvation dear, 

Confined in chains to creed. 


You g-ave us air and water free, 

And made the earth to bloom, 
For which Ave left our hearts to thee 

From out sectarian gioom. 
Abroad among- the fields and flowers 

Thy wondrous ways we trace, 
Oh, grant among celestial bowers, 

I may behold thy face. 

Now, Lord, my simple prayer attend. 

And guide my wayw^ard life ; 
Be thou my father and my friend. 

Shield all n\v days from strife ; 
And when Your wisdom shall decide 

That I from earth must flee. 
Oh, grant I'll ever more reside. 

Dear Lord, in sight of Thee. 


Dear friend thou wert called in thy youth and 
thy bloom, 

To go over the mournful l)ourne ; 
Many kind friends will lament thee in gloom, 
Tears sad and silent we'll shed on thy tomb. 

From whence thou canst never return. 


Heaven, thy mercy send down, we implore, 

To comfort each sister and brother ; 
And send that bereaved one a bountiful store. 
Who suffered her share of affliction before— 
His heart-broken, poor, widowed mother. 

Thougli clad in the g-arments of deep-seated woe. 

Her duty she nobly performed ; 

She taug-ht his young- footsteps the way they 
should go, 

Her feeling-s maternal were thankful to know 

That virtue his pathway adorned. 

At parting" we murmured in accents sincere. 

For God to protect him from danger ; 
Then sadly we bade him farewell, with a tear, 
And now, to behold him come back on his bier, 
From the far distant land of the stranger. 

In that far-away land 'tis consoling- to think 

That brother was vieing- with brother. 
Fraternally bound by a mystical link, 
Who'd fain woo him back from eternity's brink. 
To gladden the life of his mother. 

But Death to the mark w^as unerring- and true, 

In the noon of his youth he departed ; 
Yet death had no terrors exposed to the view 


For him who from childhood his duty did do 
To her who is now broken-hearted. 

Sorrowful tears on his g-rave we shall strew, 
Forg-et our dear friend we shall never. 

Tho' the vail of the tomb now conceals from our 

All that remain to us mortal of you, 
You'll live in our hearts, Phil, forever. 


Mr. Editor : Grant me a limited space. 

Till I publish a little denial ; 
Many boys have me pulled in a very tig-ht place, 

And condemn me without any trial. 
Wherever I go tliey keep poking- their fun — 

If you doubt me ask Teddy McCarthy — 
They say I must not for an Alderman run 

In our tidal-wave Democrat party. 

One very great reason these "kickers" advanced 
Why m}?- nag* should be ruled from the race, sir, 
"He's a railroader now." For that crime I'd be 

'Neath the hoofs of the rest in disgrace, sir. 
God help us ! I thought a man toiling for bread. 


If he truly and honestly labors, 
Could stand up erect, could uncover his head, 
And be peer to his proudest of neighbors ! 

Should I mea'sure my strength with opponents, 
I'm sure. 

When the votes in the box would be tallied, 
That an Alderman's chair I could sit in secure. 

That the boys of the ward round me rallied. 
By remaining away I'll have frolic galore ! 

And I hope you'll not think me uncivil 
By saying : "I don't care where runs the Lake 

And the Ellen Street bridge to the devil ! " 

Considering the number of nags on the track, 

'Tis hard to tell which one will answer ; 
For each is a played-out, political hack. 

And an old, spavined, blustering prancer. 
Down amongst the spectators I'm going to stand, 

It is there I'll feel jovial and hearty; 
And the nag that's in first Iwill pat with my hand, 

On the Bloomingdale road of the party. 

Mr. Page, 'tis to 3^ou I would briefly suggest. 

In my broadest of broad nomenclature. 
And I hope you'll bring forward this little request 


Up before our New York legislature : 
^^All the blocks of the Fifth mto wards must be 

Or, if not, the whole city will scotf us, 
We all hanker so much for the Alderman's trade, 

And one-tenth of us then may i^-et office. 


Miss Ang-eline S., don't 3^ou think it is time 
To send a response to jour sweet little rhyme ? 
It thrilled me, it filled me Avith pleasure all o'er, 
I cherished it up in m^^ heart's dearest core. 
To think that a lady possessed of your charms 
Will fold me for life in your beautiful arms. 
And make me the paramount lord of your purse 
When once we're united for better or worse. 

Lamenting' in sorrow, long' years I delayed. 
Too bashful to woo, and to win a fair maid, 
Deficient in courag-e, both luckless and poor. 
What maid such a fool of a man could endure ? 
But you, like an ang-el sent down from above, 
Spread o'er me the wing-s of affection and love. 
And made my heart buoyant and lig-ht as a 

To know Ave will jog* on life's railroad tog-ether. 


What is beauty ? I care not a fig, my clear g-irl, 
If your head could 'nt hoast of a ring-let or curl ; 
If your eyes stood at angles of ninety degrees ; 
If your tongue was incessantly running to tease ; 
If your nose was a pug, with the top of it red ; 
If 3^our sweet httle mouth semi-circled your head ; 
In fact, I don't care how your features appear, 
So long as a carriage you ride in, my dear. 

I hope my appearance won't give you much care ; 
Of beauty I have but a miserly share ; 
I'm an only son, in her moments of joy, 
My mother oft called me ''her liandsomest boy." 
She suffered with fear least her darling would 

By ladies embracing the son of my mother. 

I wish the dear creatures would take my advice, 

And coutinue, its naughty, folks say, but its nice. 

I'm oft' for Fort Wayne Avhen I draw my next pay, 
I'll visit some friends whom I know on the way. 
Be sure in your coach to the station you'll ride 
To meet me, and give me a seat at youi- side. 
I feel as if fortune, so hard in the past. 
Was turning around in my favor at last. 
No longer I'll suffer the pangs of distress. 
When spending your ducats, Miss Angeline S. 



(On being presented with a set of beautiful razors.) 

How oft with microscopic g"lance 

In mid-teens I my chin did scan, 
In search of stunted down's advance, 

Which would denote the future man. 
And wlien a stra,> , forlorn hair 
Did bless my persevering- stare, 
The razor of my sire I stole ; 
In boyish g-lee beyond control 
I soug-ht an unfrequented place, 
M3^ trembling- hand went o'er my face. 
No mirroi" back my visag-e gave. 
It was my first, my maiden shave ; 
Your retrospective i^lance ma^' tell 
By like experience what befell ; 
If eig-lit old cats, I truly swear, 

Plaj^ed hide and seek round each jawbone. 
Or danced a modern lanciers there. 

Their claws would have more mercy shown. 

And next in years of riper g-rowth, 
Till yesterday at manhood's noon, 

I must confess to many an oath 
I stifled-, sir, at features hewn. 

I slashed, and scraped, and strapped, and 


I lathered, rubbed, I tug-ged, and honed ; 
The thousand angry tears I shed, 
The million crimson drops I bled. 
If I could but recall them here, 

And give them tongues to sound your 
They'd thank you, sir, with words sincere. 

In volumes of immortal lays ! 

Your princely gifts I well may prize 

As souvenirs till life's decline ; 
They will remind my gloating^ eyes 

Of many a kindly act of thine. 
Their polished, tempered, faultless sheen 
Glides o'er my features, smooth and keen ; 
'Tis pleasure now where all was pain ; 
And ere I close this simple strain 
Of Heaven one little gift I crave 
To grant me here this side the grave — 
'Tis this : O Lord, if vandal boor 

Should steal, 'twixt now and days remote, 
My beauties bright, send vengeance sure. 
And make them cut his thievish throat. 



Friend Michael : I have a spare moment or two. 
And cheerfully now I'll devote them to you. 
My memory points me a beautiful giade, 
'Tis canopied o'er by an evergreen shade ; 
There I'll convey you, my brother in rhyme, 
The string's of my harp into tune I will chime, 
I'll sing you a brief little sketch of my life 
And the luck I have met advertising a wife. 

In ,youth I was orphaned ; no kindred came near 
To soothe me in sorrow or stay the sad tear. 
When grown up to manhood I thought of a wife 
To help me to climb up the grades of this life ; 
Some dear little maiden, a si}'- little elf. 
With no other failing than loving myself ; 
To lift from my shoulders toil's Avearisome load. 
When home I'd return from a day on the road. 

That's wdi3^ in the Journal I fished for a mate. 
A bouncing grass- widow kept nibbling the bait. 
She w^rote me : "Dear Shandy, in sadness I mourn 
"The absence of one who is slow to return. 
"But w^hy should I longer lament him in tears ? 
"Come wed me and father m.y two little dears." 
I'd like to comply, but my mother of yore 
Cried : Sliandy, beware of grass-Avidows, asthore ! 


Success on occasions seemed hovering- nig-h, 
My heart then dilated with hope-beaming- joy, 
When "Salsie" with promises sweetly expressed, 
Averred she adored me the dearest and best. 
I flew to the g-arret on pinions of love 
In search of my bedding*, chairs, cradle and stove. 
Some friends at our wedding' I then did invite, 
But '^Salsie" soon ended my dream of delight. 

^'Mollie Baw^n" was the next urg-ed me on to 

A kind of a, sort of a Benedict feeling*. 
I made all arrangements to speedily wed her ; 
The rest of my life I would run double-header. 
Ah ! surely, I thoug'ht, 'tis a glorious selection. 
This fair one must be the full t^^pe of perfection. 
Alas ! I discovered the greatest of folly 
In trying to capture a maiden like "Mollie." 

Now last, though not least, well, in fact what I'd 

My heartless deceiver — Queen Bee of them all. 
Miss Angeline S. left me stricken with pain ; 
She's possessed of a fortune and lives in Fort 

To the hill-top of hope on love's wings did I go. 
But the lickle jade's silence soon dashed me below. 


Dear Michael, her reasons are easily seen, 
She rides in a carriag^e, I on a McQueen. 

But why should 3^our humble admirer despair. 
Whose negiig-ent curls have not a g'ra}^ hair ? 
While life lasts, there's hope, and if luck's at my 

Surely sooner or later I'll capture a bride. 
But Michael, there's one at my elbow who says : 
"All big-amists pay for their amorous ways." 
So, between you and I, the state prison I'll shun, 
Thougli the brothers insist I must keep up the fun. 

I see you are one of that brave-hearted band, 
Whom a traitor has scattered all over the land. 
'Tis better to be found on the side that is rig-ht. 
Than to pander and kneel to oppression and 

mig'ht ; 
'Tis better to be poor and be hopeful in God, 
Than to bow down and kiss a t^a^annical rod ; 
'Tis better in rag's to plod on to the g-rave. 
Than to meekly submit to be scourg-ed as a slave. 

But Avhy should I long-er this subject pursue ? 
'Tis g'one to oblivion, away from our view ; 
If further I'd chime on such dissonant string's, 
Brothers Arthur and Greene would be clipping- 
mv wing's. 


Rig-lit here at Oswego they paid us a call, 
And departed with hearty t^'ood wishes for all. 
My reg"ards to you, Mike, till existence doth end 
I shall always be proud to be classed as your 


'Tis easy to preach about patience, 

For those Avho have freedom from ills. 
When dealing- out sympathy freely, 

To victims of fevers and chills ; 
'Tis easy to preach about patience 

For those who have naught but a sneer 
To give to the wretch who is tortui-ed 

With iDains at the butt of his ear. 

How eloquent, fluent, and freely 

Their tide of giib saying's roll out, 
To soothe the poor victim when howling 

With terrible twists of the gout ; 
Or joints all aflame with rheumatics. 

When up from the bed he will leap. 
To hear them exclaim : "Now be patient. 

Lie still and go gently to sleep." 

With pains of neuralgia thumping 
Your nei"ves with bigsledge-hammer blows, 


Or chronic catarrh persecuting- 
Your features, distorting- your nose. 

'Tis easy to preach about patience 
For those with demoniac g-rins, 

Who tell you such torture was g-iven 
As certain atonement for sins. 

Some toothaches most surely will bother 

The wisest in surgical lore, 
No matter how g'ently their forceps 

Will touch 3'ou, in pain you will roar ; 
And 3'et some old midA\ ife or other 

Will laugh at the nerve you dis^^lay, 
When wrenched till your eyeballs are start- 

From blood-colored sockets away. 

Be patient the preachers keep telling 

Poor souls without clothing- or food, 
When rolling in richest of broadcloth, 

And aping a sanctified mood. 
They'll feed you on texts from the Scriptures, 

And ask wh^^ you dare to complain, 
While at the same time they're regaling 

On porter-house steak and champagne. 

Oh, out on such hypocrite swaddlers. 
Who travel palavering round. 


To deal out their stock of set phrases 

Where ever attiictioii is found. 
I'd rather have one touch mag^netic 

In kindness steal over my head, 
Than all of their blatherskite blabhiug", 

Dealt out at the side of my bed. 


One nig-ht, to enjoy a few hours of repose, 

I coiled myself up in tlie bed 'neath the clothes, 

Oblivious alike of my friends or my foes, 

Rig'ht soon I was off in a dream. 
I dreamt that old Charon had ferried me o'er. 
As soon as his boat touched the Stygian shore, 
''Here's Shandy Mag'uire," the old rascal did roar 

With a weird and unearthly scream ! 

Indeed, 'twas a burning- reception I g'ot, 
The atmosphere there was oppressively hot, 
But the imps whom I saw seemed content with 
their lot. 

And said I would soon be the same. 
Old Pluto came up and extended his hand. 
He spoke in a voice I could well understand, 
''Dear Mr. Maguire, I'm at j^our command, 

Your wish you have only to name." 



To see how his majesty rehshed a joke, 
I asked for a pipe and tobacco to smoke, 
That simple request was a masterly stroke, 

His countenance beamed with a g-rin. 
^'Here by m}^ side sit at ease and enjoy 
A smoke fromm^^ pipe, you're a broth of a boy. 
While with me 3^ou ling-er none shall you annoy. 

You seldom were g'uilty of sin." 

His devils he ordered to march in review. 
Oh, many were there in my life-time I knew ! 
Jovial companions I saw 'mong-st them too. 

And bachelors mostly I spied ! 
"How is it I don't see a Benedict here ?" 
Pluto replied with a wink and a leer — 
"Poor souls, they all soar to a happier sphere ! 

They atoned for their sins ere the^^ died. ' ' 

My brothers were few, as the column passed by, 
The g-ood natured phiz of "Square" Blake I could 


He gave me a glance from his amorous eye, 
And asked for the news from above. 

I answered : "your sweet-hearts I tried to console, 

Alas ! surely their grief was be^^ond my control ; 

Together we prayed for repose of your soul." 
Quoth Bill, "that was brotherly love." 


Railroad directors were there in ^i^alore, 
Presidents also, a plentiful store, 
Superintendents I saw by the score, 

Beelzebub caught them at last. 
There they were shackled both safe and secure. 
Placarded "tyrants on earth to the poor," 
Those "ten-per-cent-off" boys I could'nt endure 

I closed my eyes till they had passed. 

I also discerned some traitors w^ere there, 
A sorrowful, heart-rending' look of despair 
All of the double-dyed villians did wear, 

My pit3^ for those was sincere. 
"Your majesty," then I began, "I would fain 
Have you ease the poor wretches of part of their 

From a good hearty laugh Pluto could'nt refrain. 

He whispered "last Fall" * in my ear. 

A rollicking, frolicking, musical throng, 
Uproariously singing a comical song 
Up close to the traitors came marching along ; 
"Who are they, your majesty, pray?" 
"Why, Shandy, a few of the boys I enrolled, 

* This allusion has reference to the strikes in the Fall of '73, when the 
Brotherhood was supposed to have been betrayed byChas. Wilson, the Grand 
Chief. In support of the supposition, there was a special convention called 
to convene at Cleveland in February, 1874, and by a unanimous vote he 
was deposed. P. M. Arthur, the present Grand Chief, was elected in his 
stead. Mr. Arthur is an intelligent, christian gentleman, and has the 
entire confidence of the organization, which he has successfully controlled 
for the past eleven years. 


To see that the traitors don't suffer with cold ; 
They could 'nt be bribed with position or gold — 
Here ^ 'every dog' has his day." 

His majesty's pipe I returned and said — 
"There's many an honest man toiling for bread, 
Who'll better his fortune when once he is dead." 

I tickled the Governor there. 
"If this is the region of brimstone and fire, 
You'll find a good subject in Shandy Maguire." 
After ni}^ wants he began to inquire, 

And spoke to me candid and fair. 

"Dear Shandy, you always worked bravely on 
earth ; 

You've earned your grub from the moment of 

You seasoned it, too, with a sprinkling of mirth. 

And never bowed down to despair. 

Receive your reward — 3^011 're possessed of the 

To oversee imps I have ballasting track ; 

I'm building a road up to Wall street and back. 

To handle the traffic from there. 

Here comes your gang, the^^ were all millionaires 
Above, and were known as the Bulls and Bears, 
They gambled in stocks and they cornered the 


Now take all of them you can find. 
Oh, yes, Mr. Pluto ! I instantly cried, 
''M3^ last crust of bread with these chaps I'll 

His majesty smiled, for he knew that I lied, 
He read all the thoughts in niy mind. 

I threw off my coat, to my cudg-el held fast, 
^^Veng-eancel" I cried, ^^for the days that are 
passed — 

The road you chaps trod has an ending- at last. 

Now I am commencing my reign" — 
Rap, tap, at the door, I awoke with a hound. 
The "Caller's" rich brogue through my noddle 
did sound : 

"Och, Shandy, avick ! shure its time you got 

And don't be delaying j^oui^ train I" 

Let others sing of vintage prime. 

Sparkling brightly in the cup ; 
Imported from each sunny clime. 

For eating manhood's vitals up ; 
But I will tune my harp to praise. 
In unpremeditated lays. 
That self-denying, noble band, 


Of honest heart and friendly hand ; 
Who founded an asylum here, 
To dry the mourner's bitter tear, 
And preach the g-ospel of reform, 
That will domestic hearths keep a\ arm ; 
Those pioneers of envied fame. 

Who raised the temperance banner hig-h, 
And on its folds engrossed each name, 

To float beneath Oswego's sky. 

'Tis not in legislative halls, 
Surrounded by the bay'nets gleam, 

'Tis not in fierce, politic braw^ls. 
Can be dispelled the drunkard's dream. 

Experience teaches us too true, 

Coersive measures will not do. 

We've heard the prohibition cr3^ 

Some candidates have raised on high ; 

How they would send us steel-clad laws, 

To guard our noble temperance cause. 

With legislative bay'nets, too. 

To slaughter all the drunken crew I 

There is a saying in that isle 

Across the sea, where I have trod ; 

And where oppressed ones with a smile 
Put all their hopes and trust in God — 

"Nabocklislv^^^ sure, it is the trade 

* Never mind them . 


Of all reformers whom we sent, 
Soon as their fortune w^e had made, 
To sell us out in parliament. 

But here's to those, I fill the glass 

To overflowing- from the spring, 
And round, my bo^^s, the toast will pass. 

In praise of all whom I do sing ; 
The brawny sons of hardy toil. 
The noble lords of ev'ry soil. 
The men of rough, untutor'd mind. 
Possessed of jew^els unrefined ; 
Each one endowed with nature's fire ; 
My humble Muse w^ould fain aspire 
To trace the thoughts, that unexpress'd, 
Lie sleeping 'neath each russet vest ; 
Those noble boys who raised the flag- 
No mean, dilapidated rag, — 
But twined around with mem'ries bright. 
Augmenting ev'ry Monday night, 
As we in weekly councils meet. 
And with fraternal smiling greet. 
Each penitent who joins the van. 
Resolved to be a sober man. 
Then here's to them, fill ev'ry glass 

To overflowing from the spring ; 
And round, my boys, the toast shall pass, 

In praise of all wiiom I did sing. 




One evening', indulg-ing- in fond reveries, 

Or building- air-castles, whichever you please, 

For know you, dear reader, I build with a will 

My castles in latest of modern skill ; 

No sooner erected, my queen on her throne, 

Than down they come, tottering-, stone after 

That nig'ht I sat building-, the hour was late. 
The fire was flickering- low in the g-rate, 
I arose to replenish, when lo ! what a sig-ht 
Met my wondering- g-aze, put my heart in a fright ! 
Unannounced in the room stood a man on whose 

Old ag-e had ruthlessly cut with his plow 
Deep furrows and wrinkles, decrepit and old. 

And hoar.y indeed, was the look of the strang-er. 

He shivei^'d and shook with rheumatics and cold. 

And looked the reverse to inspire me with 


"Who are you?" He answered : "I'm Seventy- 
"The devil!" I cried, in amazement and wonder; 
"Why did'nt you knock when you came to the 
"I did," he replied, "hammered louder than 


I thoug-ht you were dead, but I found you were 

So coz3^ and snug-, with the fire on you beaming- ; 
Quit dreaming", my boy, or you'll find if you joke 
Too much with the fire, you'll encounter some 

I was loath to depart, 'tis the truth that I tell, 
Till I came to embrace you and bid you farewell." 
"To receive your embraces 'tis not my desire ; 
Your sex isn't suited to Shandy Mag-uire — 
And, know you, old codg-er, 'tis little I care 
How soon 3^ou set sail throug-h the snow-laden 

I'm just as you found me a twelve-month ag-o. 
Still poor, discontented, downhearted and 
lonely ; 
Up life's rug-g-ed grades I am clambering- slow, 
Just running- on time to my meeting' points 

"That's wh}^," he exclaimed, "I have called here 
to-nig-ht ; 
Your wrong-s in the past I have closely scanned 
over ; 
Ere parting-, I mean to adjust them allrig-ht, 
And leave you behind me knee deep in rich 
"Sit down here beside me my worthy old friend, 


I knew my misfortunes were near at an end ; 
You're a beautiful, youthful, and kindliearted 

Some moments the blarney profusely ran. 
His features assumed a paternal g-low. 
As thus he addressed me, distinctly and slow. 
His voice, patriarchial, did many times fail. 
Recounting- this brief, chronological tale : 

"The worth^^ Grand Chief Engineer of the earth 
Proclaimed from His home be}- ond planet or 

That I should commence at the moment of birth 
Uniting- mankind, smoothing- factions that jar. 
I traveled the g-lobe on the wing-s of the storm, 
I labored in vain the command to perform. 
In castle and cot in all climes have I been. 
In palace and prison sad sigiits have I seen ; 
Throug-h hig-hways and bywa3^s too many by 

'Twas man ag-ainst man, 3^es, and woman the 

Each bloated oppressor, with miserly hoard. 
Still cling-s to his g-old, and God's poor are 

ig-nored ; 
Dissensions and quarrehng-s, in factions and 

Bickering's, and wrang-ling-s, and damnable deeds. 


The body politic's unsavory and sore, 
Corruption lias seized on its very heart's core. 
Save noble exceptions, mankind I have found 
Are g-uided by Satan the universe round. 
I'll retire from the scene, my successor is near ; 
Perhaps he'll accomplish the mission next year. 
To the B. of L. E. I've been partial, I own. 

There I found brothers who listen to reason, 
A man I triumphantly placed on the throne, 

Who'll shield you from danger and guard you 
from treason. 

And now, my dear boy, I will gladden your heart 
With something I'll whisper before I depart : 
If you'll follow my counsels they'll lead you 

To a clime wiiere you'll dally in endless delight ; 
'Tis a land wiiere vast wealth on the surface is 


And companions, delighted, sport all the year 

round" — 
"Oh, bless you!" I said, "will you tell me its 
"You rascal" he cried, "do you mean to 
deceive me?" 
"I do not, indeed, but my heart's in a flame. 
To hear where that climate's located, believe 


His features assumed some incredible leers ; 
My e^^es begun shedding- mock-penitent tears, 
He saw them, again to his heart I went creeping-, 
Old men, like old maids, are soon conquered by 

He resumed : "When your sails are all set to the 

And off you g-o cruising- in fanciful seas. 
Remember directions I now shall unfold 
You'll find they will lead to contentment and 

Draw nearer, my life is fast ebbing- away, 
I'm nearing- the dawn of eternity's da^^" — 
The clock beg-an tolling-, my g-uest g-ave a bound ; 
To stop him some moments I made an endeavoi\: 
'Twas midnig-ht, and scarcely had struck the 

twelfth sound. 
When Seventy-Four left my vision forever. 


"Now freights are up," said Mickey- Jo^xe, 
"And wages too, so boss, less lip; 

Close reef 3^our shrill, commanding- voice. 
Or I'll be off and make a trip. 

A life ashore is drudg-e and drive, 


For twelve long- hours, to and fro ; 
It matters not how hard I strive, 
I ne'er can get a watch below." 

But freights are up and times are good. 

And owners very freel^^ boast 
"They '11 give their ^Matlows' wholesome food , 

Roast beef, plum-dutf , with quail on toast. ' ' 
Just like the good old days of yore. 

When tables groaned with flesh and fish ; 
And captains brought their crews ashore. 

To find a still more dainty dish ! 

I 3^et can shift a sheet and hand 

A sail when equinoctials howl ; 
Besides, at sea, not like the land. 

The mates don't care how much I growl ; 
But here its work the live-long day. 

In ev'ry kind of stormy weather. 
And scarcely get sufficient pay 

To keep my body and soul together. 

Yourself and I have shipmates been 
Some twelve or thirteen j^ears ago. 

With Parsons, in the Algerine, 
Who gave us watch and watch below ; 

You then could growl as well as me, 


And work *'Tom Coxs' traverse*" too, 
And on a first-class jamboree 
I never got the start of you. 

For seven 3^ears I've done my best 

Ag-ainst liead seas and heavy gales ; 
'Twas ^full and by,' no ease nor rest ; 

With stranded gear and tatter 'd sails. 
Bat now the wind is piping fair, 

And freights are on the rise once more ; 
Don't drive me or the 3^ards I'll square, 

And on m^^ lee leave jobs ashore. 

I simply quote Mike's words to prove 

That times are on the mend again ; 
That freights and ships are on the move. 

To cheer the hearts of sailor men. 
Old tars begin to roll their hips. 

And talk of all their pleasures past. 
With captains, who commanded ships. 

And used them well before the mast. 

* In nautical parlance, working "Tom Coxs' traverse" means to shirk 
from duty. 



Grand Chief Engineer of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Eni,nneers, 
Cleveland, Ohio. 

My wortli3^ chief, a word or two, 
An humble friend will have with you. 

With no intent to flatter. 
My Muse is honest, frank and blunt. 
In manhood's fig-ht she seeks the front. 

And can't be hired to spatter 
High-sounding" words of fulsome praise 
On men who seek dark, devious ways, 

She does detest such clatter ; 
That's why, to-night, in accents true, 
She whispers me to write to you. 

And so I jingle at her. 

A general, you, of tactics rare. 
Of toil you take the larg-er share, 

Your army all reviewing ; 
With honest words of hope and cheer. 
You drive away all doubt and fear, 

Our grosser thoughts subduing. 
'Tis better far, my wortlw chief. 
And in the end brings more relief 

From many ills accruing. 
Than firing up each injured mind, 
Until it is with passion bhnd, 

And conquered foes pursuing. 


I often think, with keen dehg-ht, 
Upon that last October nig-ht, 

When you and Greene together, 
Surrounded by a faithful few 
Good members of One-Fiftj^-Two — 

Both pictured stormy weather, 
For an^^ man who'd dare to yield 
Our Brotherhoods' protecting shield 

For sly, ofhcial blether — 
Who'd step within the slinky snare 
Of promises, so seemly fair. 

Then bound b}^ such a tether. 

You have your faults, I know they're few, 
You'll surely meet temptation, too. 

If not you're more than human ; 
Your duty calls you face to face 
With men who are a purse-proud race. 

And full of keen acumen ; 
But, sure, your honest manly heart. 
Will never from those maxims part. 

All prized so much by you, man. 
Your life's a page where men can read, 
And in temptation's hour, indeed. 

We know you proved a true man. 

With weapons made of voice and pen, 
You beard the lion in his den, 


Una wed by fear or favor. 
Our rig-hts determined to maintain, . 
Each nerve you'll put to fullest strain, 

Eeg-ardless of palaver 
From oily tongues, thrown out to woo 
The mig-hty influence of 3^ou 

For any base enslaver. 
Ah ! well they know your cause is just, 
And in our cause your knig-htly thrust 

Grows braver, still, and braver. 

Then strike — but not below the belt — 
Strike ! your blows will soon be felt. 

Your aim is sure and steady. 
Strike, and make each tyrant reel. 
Strike ! your words cut worse than steel. 

Fluent, tierce and ready. 
Strike the hireling, knavish pack. 
Strike ! an army's at your back, 

Patient, cool, unheady. 
Waiting to sustain their Chief, 
And drive our enemies to grief. 

In retribution's eddy. 



My mother, in juvenile years of her son, 
Would say in a passion and sometimes in fun : 
" Arrah Shand}^, you rascal,your g-ostering- tricks 
Will get both yourself and your friends in a fix," 
And now, my dear Journal, I see an array 
Of questions just out in the number for May, 
Which bring to my mind the hard words of my 

Prophesying my friends both confusion and 


Your replies, I infer, satisfied the demand, 
For which in exchange I extend you the hand 
Of a rollicksome, careless, unfortunate elf. 
Who will "rise and explain" a few words for 

Your answers were really too partial to me, 
But mine shall be outspoken, candid and free — 
An answer in future to all who'll enquire 
And seek an acquaintance with Shandy Maguire. 

In regard to my engine and what she can do. 
That "writer" I'll answer, my words shall be few, 
Because he don't care if I'm posted at all, 
He wants us to think that himself knows it all. 
Suffice it to say when the pay car comes round 


No handier boy with the pen can be found ; 
My autog-raph then with a flourish and dash 
I'll exchang-e in return for some hard-earned cash. 

You'll find me an honest gossoon I must say, 
So long' as temptation is kept from my way ; 
I am truthful and never a lie will I tell, 
If the truth, at the moment, will answer as well. 
I am pious, and spend many hours in prayer, 
Whenlstand ontheroug-h, rag-ged edg-e of despair; 
Much addicted to drinking", the bottles I drain, 
When the corks g-o a-popping- from Fancy's 

I can palm off a pun and occasional joke, 
I can always enjoy a g-ood sociable smoke ; 
And dear to my heart is nw colored dudeen 
Which I sport in the band of my g-reasy caubeen. 
My hair doesn't curl because in my youth, 
I always would suffer for telling- the truth ; 
Besides, there's a saving- in needles and thread 
To mothers who toy with their sons by the head. 

In size I am rather "betwixt and between," 
In looks I'm pronounced "most decidedly g-reen." 
Conversing-— ah ! then they exclaim : "What a 

Sure he tickles my heart with his eleg-ant brog-ue. " 
In dress, rather plain, and my wardrobe is lig-ht, 


Not such as will gladden a landlady's sig-lit ; 
When obliged to change quarters I move all my 

In a trunk which I make from a well worn sock. 

Few friends have I had, yet in smiles and in tears, 
I have scrambled along to maturity's ;^'ears ; 
And I fear I am doomed a ''superfluous man" 
To linger my days with the bachelor clan. 
I am last of my race — ^vhen I'm summoned away, 
When my mortal remains shall be lowered in 

No kindred will then be found kneeling in prayers, 
Giving thanks for a death that has made them 

all heirs. 

Now, ladies, I fear I have ruined for life 
Ev'ry chance in my favor for getting a wife ; 
I have painted my picture with pen, ink and 

Well aware 'tis a foolish, ridiculous caper. 
I conformed to rules I was taught in my youth. 
When questions are asked my replies shall be 

truth ; 
I hope such a straight-forward course you'll 

And smile an approval on Shandy Maguire. 


Dear '^Rog-er" whoever, wherever you are, 
Your poem has caused me both g-rief and despah^ ; 
That bouncing- grass widow has threatened to 

Along with her offspring in search of a home ; 
Since reading your reasons, she writes me they're 

Please take her yourself — with such objects in 
view — 

I fear you're the husband she waits for in tears. 
And had cause for deserting herself and her 

^^ Garry o wen" my regards, my long silence 

Be prepared when I call for an overland cruise ; 
You were also invited — with prosperous w^eather 
We'll both of us start for Kentuck}^ together. 
When your canvas is bent and you're ready to 


To Oswego, New York, send a letter by mail ; 
Once more 'neath the shade of magnolias I'll 

And escape for a season this winter-bound clime. 



On Lake Ontario, oflf Oswego, November, 1875. Read at the Benefit 
Entertainment in behalf of the Widows and Orphans. 

Osweg-o in g-arments of mourning- is clad, 

She weeps for her gallant and brave, 

Who were summoned away to the ranks of the 

'Neath (3ntario's foam-crested wave. 
All as brave as ere trod fore and aft on the deck ; 

We have known them from infancy's years ; 
And their doom we can tell by the fragments of 

That are washed by the seas to our piers. 

Oh, hark to the news which prevails on each 

Through the highways and bywa^^s 'tis tossed, 
In a grief -laden tone, from each person we meet. 

All proclaiming- the Jenkins is lost ! 

''She went down with all hands," is the pitiful 

Sent from hearts unaccustomed to weep, 
With the tears in a flood rolling free from each 
As a tribute to those in the deep. 

All her sailors were brave as ere climbed up a 


And her mates they were made to command ; 
Captain Brown was as noble and skillful a tar 

As ever sailed off from the land. 
Such were the men whom her owners could boast, 
But clouds wore a dark, angry frown, 
Which obscured all the land marks surrounding 
our coast. 

On the morning- the Jenkins went down. 

A merciless gale o'er Ontario's breast 

Was driving with terrible force. 
It had a full sweep from the stormy nor 'west, 

And drove her away from her course. 
All human exertions to save her, we know. 

Were made by her captain and crew ; 
Alas ! all in vain, for the gale-driven snow 

Our lighthouse shut out from their view. 

Hear the cries of the widows and orphans arise 

To-night on the cold biting air. 
Oh ! how hard is the heart that's unmoved by 
the sighs 

And the symbols of deepest despair ; 
The husbands and fathers who labored for bread, 

Arc rolling in watery graves. 
Never more to arise till the trump of the dead 

Shall call them from under the waves. 


All you who are blessed with affluence and 
Who bask in prosperity's ray, 

Whose lives are a round of contentment and 

To 3"ou for assistance w^e pray. 
Oh ! pity the wives of the ill-fated tars. 

Give freely from plentiful stores. 
Their husbands, perhaps, may be lashed to the 

And come washed by the seas to our doors. 


Dear Journal : A lad}^ one evening' I met, 
A valued acquaintance, a handsome brunette ; 
A frolicsome, fun-loving-, beautiful creature. 
Exquisitely molded in ever^^ feature. 
Like most of her sex of the beautiful type. 
Whose natural charms are lusciously ripe, 
She had scores of admirers all '' willing* to die," 
So the}^ madly exclaimed, " for a g"lance of her 

A favorite song for m3^self she would sing. 
When turning her music I noticed a ring. 
That spoke of engagement ; I saw at a glance 


My chances were slim, so I woke from my trance. 
That tell-tale said plainly she'd never be mine, 
Henceforth like a slave I will kneel at her 

And blarney her up in as elegant style, 
As any g'ossoon from the Emerald Isle. 

That evening- 1 saw she'd an object in view, 
She said : " There's a leaf in my album for you, 
And, this for a subject : ' please tell what you 

To admire in a wild, naught3^ girl like me.' " 
She smiled at my glances, she gave me her hand. 
It thrilled like the touch of a magical wand. 
It put me in rapture as well as in rhyme. 
And here's the response which I sent in due 

time : 

I see — but, alas ! I'm deserving of pity 
Because all my wishes are hopeless, dear Kittie, 
I see a profusion of dark wavy tresses. 
Two lips that were made to receive my caresses, 
Lij)s that the tint of vermillion disclose. 
Tinged with the hue we admire in the rose. 
Eyes that can pierce through my soul with their 

Hands that out-rival the lily in whiteness, 
A bust that is rounded perfectly by nature, 


Proclaiming- the owner a beautiful creature, 
A voice that is sweeter than tropic birds winging- 
Their w^a^^ through rich gardens of melody, 

Smiles that enrapture m}^ senses when gazing-, 
More bright than the Sun when in splendor he's 

A breath that surpasses the sweet-morning- dew, 


Or fragrance that blooms 'round the shores of 
Peru, love. 

Right here I should cease, but an imp at my 

Keeps wiiispering : '^ time all those charms will 

And now while ag-low in the noon of your youth, 

I give you advice to be taken forsooth, love, 
'^Lay siege to a heart that 3'ou know Avill not 

Performing the vows which are made at the 

Don't mind his appearance, if brawny his form, 
So best wiien he buffets adversity's storm. 

His coat — what's the odds if its torn and tat- 
tered ? 


His hat may from service be crownless and 

When married, he'll quickly- improve with your 

aid, love, 
Besides, he will not let you die an old maid, love. ' ' 
^'Will you take this advice which I tender to you, 

Of course, if you do, you are welcome to, true love. 
Don't answer me "no"or you'll weep itin sorrow, 
If "yes" you can dance at our wedding to-mor- 


(Ex-City Physician.) 

Dear Doctor : I'm rather inclined to the notion 
That thing's haven't went as they really should 
To pay for the years of untiring* devotion 

You gave to the cause, both in sunshine and 
God knows when we made you a City Pl\ysician, 
With pay just sufficient to furnish you grub, 
We never supposed they'd create a commission, 
And knock out your brains with an Albany 


Alas ! like yourselfjthere are many brave fellows, 
Whose features have lengthened a fathom or 
more ; 
All sad, disappomted, downhearted Othellos, 
Washed hig-h on the rocks of despondency's 
Experience has taught all those boys to their 
That labor don't always receive its full pay — 
That birds left to fly in the fields till to-morrow 
Ma}^ laugh at the cage and float gaily away. 

God bless the good times that have left us forever. 
When candidates smilingly walked on the 
street ; 
With speeches well studied, so oil^^ and clever. 
And asked us to drink ev'ry time that we'd 
Then meekly request us to help them to office ; 
Oh Lord ! how they'd make us the promises 
But doctor, avick ! they would break them and 
scoff us. 
When once they'd sit down in an Alderman's 

And there they've been sitting for years and 
been sleeping 


On nice cushioned chairs, in our g-rand City 
Whilst charter amendments went stealthily 
Around through the tlesh-pots, and gobbled 
them all. 
They left not a bone worth the labor of picking ; 
Our dear city daddies we well may reproach. 
Hereafter, we'll leave them to do their own 

Because they are like the fifth wheel to a coach. 

Oh, times they have changed since High Joints 
came in fashion. 
And those are the boys who may whistle and 
How slyly they work — not a loud word in passion 
When grinding the shears for an Alderman's 
We need not much care how our votes are con- 
The voice of the many is drowned by the few, 
And justice is shackled, confined, and arrested — 
Fifth warders well know what High Jointers 
can do. 

But, Doctor, cheer up, for the day will come 


When out on the war path we'll sally once 
more ; 
When those who are now back of breast works 
Must come to the caucus the same as of yore ; 
And there, foot to foot, with our scalping- knives 
We'll square up accounts, and we'll soon end 
the strife; 
Our aim will be deadly, unerring- and steady, 
Defying your skill to recall them to life. 


By the lig-ht of a glimmering taper 
Which scarce penetrated the gloom, 

I perused in the evening- paper, 
One night as I sat in ni}' room. 

How Archibakl Perkins was lying- 
Delirious and seriously ill. 

His critical ailment defying 
The best of our medical skill. 

"That's news!" I exclaimed, and the paper 

I threw on my tenantless bed. 
I quickl}' extinguished the taper. 

Strange notions ran wild in my head. 


I meant to secure an admission 

To the chamber where Archie was lying- ; 
I could pass as a skillful ph^'sician 

And see how a rich man lay dying-. 

I entered and found him as lowly 

As any poor mortal could be ; 
By efforts most painful he slowly 

Held short conversation with me ; 
I felt of his pulse and ]3retended 

I knew all about his complaint, 
I told him to cure I intended, 

Altho' he was feeble and faint. 

"In medical lore I am noted" — 

For killing far more than I cure — # 
Some jargon expressions I quoted. 

He thought I was skillful, I'm sure. 
Faint hope o'er his features went flying : 

"Your name sir?" he then did enquire, 
"Oh, one that can save you from dying. 

Yours truly. Lord Shandy Maguire." 

The dying fool aped after titles, 
Supposing my hig-h-sounding name 

Would give a new lease to his vitals. 
And fan life's faint spark into flame. 


" Your Lordship, " said he, ''I am wealthy, 
When cured I'll one thousand allow.'* 
, I replied : *^3^ou're sufficiently healthy 
To g-ive me your autograph now." 

He mutter'd of business relations, 

Of stock-hoard transactions did prate, 
Of shares and their latest quotations, 

And thirtj^ da^^s grace after date. 
He prayed that the past be forgiven. 

And health with its blessings sent back, 
Of living more closely to heaven. 

I then screwed him down on the rack. 

"I've often heard tell of a story, 

'fl^ow Satan an angel would be 
When ill, but again in his glory, 

The devil an angel was he ; 
And now, since we're talking of devils, 

I have a few words I must say : 
Quit thinking of all your past revels, 

And for your poor soul let us pray." 

"You're now in a sinking condition, 

Not fit to respond to the call, 
I'm neither a quack nor physician. 

Can give no assistance at all. 


Great riches on earth you were given , 

For reasons 1 cannot explain ; 
You'll not find a passport to Heaven 

In all of your ill-g-otten giiin." 

The Dives of this world are many, 

In luxury rolling- secure, 
And will not contribute a penny 

To save from starvation the poor ; 
But grind us through ages and ages. 

Till sinews are worn to thread, 
Curtailing our lives and our wages, 

When fighting the battle for bread." 

"You've ahvays been fond of fast riding. 

And sorely the patience would try 
Of slaves switched for hours on a siding 

Until you'd go thundering by ; 
You'll find previous running exceeded 

By speed most appaling to view, 
To climes where no snow-plow is needed. 

To-night in old Charon's canoe." 

Your eyes will soon close on your capers, 
Old death's at the head of your stairs. 

To-morrow the news in the papers 
Will gladden the hearts of your heirs. 



'Thoug-li my coat hang's by patches and 

My purse and m^^ pockets are lig-ht, 
Yet Archie, for all of your riches 

I wouldn't change places to-nig-ht. 


At the close of a wearisome day, 

My eng-ine in round-house secured, 
I was carelessly strolling- away, 

Until called to ''examine the board." 
A feeling' that all wasn't rig'ht 

Crept instantl3^ over me there ; 
This order that burst on my sig-ht 

Soon i^lung'ed me in deepest despair : 

" On his arrival, with speed 

To headquarters send Shand^^ Mag-uire ; 
Have promptly this order obeyed, 

(Sig-ned) Archibald Perkins, Esquire." 
No wonder I g-azed in dismay. 

With tears rimning' down from each eye; 
I thoug-ht Perkins was cold in clay, 

And his nose turned up to the sky. 


I entered, and saw at a g'lance 

What my chances were g'oing- to be, 
As round hke a bear did he prance, 

With his eyes shooting* vengeance at me. 
I moistened the valves of my tong'ue, 

Kicked the office door shut with a slam, 
Knowing- well 'tis the same to be hung- 

For a sheep as it is for a lamb. 

"■So, so, Mr. Shandy, you're here, 

Impostor, physician and quack, 
"My Lord !" he exclaimed with a sneer, 

''Is your body prepared for the rack ? 
T'other nig-ht, with a hellish desig-n. 

Concealed by the drapery's g-loom. 
You entered a chamber of mine, 

To hurry me off to the tomb. 

''This letter I hold in my hand 

Will have you committed to jail. 
For villainy skillfully plan'd, 

A crime not admitting- of bail ; 
The best leg-al talent I've g'ot, 

The laws shall be chang-ed at my will ; 
I'll send you in dung-eons to rot 

On the charg-e of attempting- to kill," 


^'SliLit oiY, and down brakes on your slang-, 

Or if not, Mr. Archie you'll find, 
From a painfid, unmerciful bang-. 

That muscle's more powerful than mind. 
The odds are against you, old boy, 

Consider, your health is still poor, 
And 'twould give me the greatest of joy 

To measure your length on the floor. 

*'The charge I fling back in your face. 

And of one thing I'm certain and sure : 
You've the heart to bring- shame and disgrace 

On a man just because he is poor : 
But if fortune hops into the scales, 

And lingers awhile at our side, 
As we scud with prosperity's gales, 

In your handsome gilt coach we shall ride. 

*'In His mercy God pity the man, 

Engaged in the struggles of life, 
•Who seeks on the laboring- plan. 

Subsistence for children and wife. 
It were better by far he was call'd 

In the morning of life, to the grave. 
Than linger along to be gall'd 

By the fears of becoming a slave. 


"By a move on the chess-board of war, 

Four milHons of Blacks were made free ; 
Besides, you import from afar 

The rat-eating-, heathen Chinee. 
You move 'em all over this land, 

Check-mating- our strug-gies for Rig-ht, 
Ah, yes, with an iron-clad hand 

By Heavens, you'd shackle the white. 

"How happ3^ 3^ou'd feel, could 3^ou say, 

To the over- taxed laboring* class, 
*I am made of far daintier claj^. 

To your knees, and bow down as I pass.' 
But we'll never submit to be slaves 

While a pulse-throb of manhood remains ; 
As freedmen we'll sink in our g-raves. 

Ere breathing- one hour in your chains. 

"Then pause in your onward career; 

Reflect on the course you pursue. 
Retribution, stalks close in the rear 

Of such hardened old wretches as you ; 
You'll meet with it, sooner or late, 

There's a terrible sentence in store. 
When you pass throug'h Eternity's g-ate. 

For the wrong-s you inflict on the pooi*. 


" I know that my head you'll lop off, 

You never could relish a joke, 
So here is material enoug-h, 

For your silver-gilt cludeen to smoke. 
When the wreaths curl up round your nose, 

As you lay on your velvet settee, 
Perhaps ^^ou'll be lull'd to repose 

By a fond recollection of me." 

. I ceased, and requested my pay. 

Supposing m}^ service would end ; 
He order 'd me mildly away. 

And said he would sentence suspend. 
^^ Arrah, glory to Heaven, old boy. 

Give me hold of your fist ere we part. 
And remember, kind words can send joy. 

Thrilling down to the depths of the heart. 


One evening 1 sat meditating 
On various ills we endure. 

And many, indeed, are the ailments 
Encountered thro' life by the poor. 


I heard a slow footstep approaching, 
And turning- around in my chair 

I saw an old man, on whose features 
Sat sorrow and hopeless despair. 

He looked like a way-worn strang-er. 

I did not his business enquire, 
But asked him to come and be seated 

'Long-side of myself at the fire. 
He thanked me in accents of sorrow ; 

His voice, Ah ! I've heard it before. 
'Twas Archibald Perkins, in tatters. 

Who came unannounced to m^^ door ! 

Alas ! what a chang-e in poor Archie ; 

Time was when he had at command 
A gilt equipag-e, and his riches 

Were talked of all over the land. 
His bearing-, then chilling-ly haug-hty. 

Conceit played a prominent part ; 
I often have wondered if Heaven 

Created the man with a heart ! 

I heard he encountered misfortune, 
Was blown on adversity's rocks. 

Because he endeavored to "corner" 
The market hy watering- stocks. 


With prosperous sunbeams around him 
His friends were a numerous clan, 

But now — lie was sad and forsaken — 
A heart-broken, weary old man ! 

'^Alas ! I'm exhausted with hung-er," 

Exclaimed my poor, ill-fated g"uest — 
'^1 fain would implore you to grant me 

Some needed refreshments and rest. 
I trudged many miles since the morning, 

I'm seeking a place to lie down. 
Wherein I'll escape for a season 

The force of Adversity's frown." 

"Benumbed with fatigue and exposure, 

I ask you in charity's name. 
To grant me this night in seclusion ; 

No more from your pity I'll claim. 
To-morrow I'll leave you forever, 

This night in your town is my last ; 
The rest of my life I'll endeavor 

To make some amends for the past." 

He ceased, and I stood up before him, 
To notice the look of his eye. 

I paused for a moment, reflecting 
On how I should make him reply. 


Poor Archie, a tramp and a begg'ar ! 

Who onte had a palace-car train ; 
With waiters to fan him and feed him, 

And pour him out choicest Champag'ne ! 

''Indeed I am more than astonished 

To see you so friendless and poor. 
I scarcely could credit my senses, 

When first you arrived at my door. 
You're quite a professional heg-g-ar. 

You've learned the trade very fast ; 
You're weak as that mem'rable evening- 

You thoug-ht 3^ou were breathing- 3^our last. 

"Before I will g-rant 3^ou the favor 

You earnestly seek and desire, 
A little account must be settled 

Between you and Shandy Maguire. 
I hope sir you haven't forg-otten 

Those truths which I told you of yore, 
That brokers and breakers of Wall Street, 

Would toss 3^ou on poverty's shore. 

"Remember the time you sat grinding- 
The hearts of poor, laboring men, 

By orders tyranic'ily issued. 

Each day by a dash of your pen ; 


Your cutting- and slashing- of wag-es, 
Your payment in scrip, and the mode 

Of testing" our power of endurance 
Along- the whole line of the road. 

" Oh, Heaven ! my wrath is unbounded. 

At how you abused ev'ry crew 
In days when the g-avel was sounded 

B^^ such an old t^^rant as you. 
'Twas seldom, if ever, you g-ranted 

Redress from each heartless decree. 
No doubt, you distinctly remember 

Suspending- a sentence on me. 

" Yourself g-raduated from labor, 

But beg-g-ars on horseback excel. 
They drive rig-ht ahead in their fury, 

And ride throug-h the portals of — Well, 
I can't see the use of me marring- 

My beautiful face with a frown. 
Besides, I have never assisted 

In kicking- a man when he's doAvn. 

"You're hung-ry ! sit down at this table, 
You're not quite so choice as you were 

In days when the stock holders dined you 
And fed you on sumptuous fare ; 


Because you reduced the expenses, 
By making- more work for less pay ; 

And telling- them how 3^0 u could run us 
As far as 3^ou chose for a day." 

I ceased, and I quickly regretted 

M^^ rashness to one of his years. 
He bowed o'er his head and I noticed. 

His e^^es were fast filling with tears. 
"Ha, ha ! my old sport, I discover 

My words have struck deep in their force 
And reached away down to that fountain 

Well known by the name of ^remorse.' " 

"Perhaps you are iDlaying impostor, 

Arraj^ed in that mendicant garb. 
To see with what vengeance I'll prick you 

To-night with my merciless barb ; 
The morrow's bright sun may behold you 

Once more at the head of affairs. 
Arrayed in rich broad-cloth, and all of 

Your old time original airs." 


"Here's bread, you can see I've no butter, 
Nice dainties to us are a treat ; 

This bone affords excellent picking 
To furnish a morsel of meat. 


Here's hay -seed some time I've had steeping* ; 

My grocery-man sells it for tea ; 
The sngar and cream are dispensed with. 

Since wag-es were slaug-htered on me. 

'^Some more I will do to console you, 

And soothe you for days that have fled, 
When supper is over I'm ready 

To g-ive you the half of my bed ; 
Because I'm inclined to consider 

Your bark was far w^orse than your bite. 
Eat hearty now, Archie, iDoor fellow ! 

You'll not leave my cabin to-nig*ht." 


Once more the onward march of time, 

In measured tread, from pole to pole. 
Through every land, in every clime, 

Has marked again the seasons roll 
That brings the festive days, when Mirth 

Will reign supreme in joyous cheer. 
And every heart o'er all the earth 

Will welcome give the young New Year 


This is the time we recog-nize 

The faithful service of the past, 
We march along* with glad surprise 

To those, 'mong whom our lots are cast ; 
Bestowing there a gift of love, 

Rewarding with an open hand — 
We sow the seed we'll reap above, 

When called to join Jehovah's band. 

Of all who may our bounty claim 

A few stand first amid the throng ; 
A faithful Band, unknown to fame. 

Who are the heroes of my song. 
Who plod along their toilsome way. 

In Summer sun, or Winter sleet. 
From early morn till close of day. 

On steady and untiring feet. 

Oh ! Who can tell the news they bear, 

As on they hurry to and fro, 
The tender joy, or grim despair. 

The written tale of weal or woe. 
The human heart ma3^ surge and sway 

With varied tidings that they leave. 
As on they travel every day. 

To bid us all rejoice, or grieve. 


Such servants we can ne'er despise, 

We'll prove each faithful action here ; 
We will reward and recognize 

At this the dawning* of the year. 
We'll cheer their hearts and urge them on 

Upon their dail}^ toilsome way 
And ere the dawn of Eiglity-One, 

They will our gen'rous gifts repay. 


The chain of lakes are rough indeed, 

And fearful sometimes to behold ; 
When chilling winds prevail in speed, 

And drive along the biting cold ; 
More fearful yet than all the rest. 

The very first in danger's van. 
Is this, the great lake of the West, 

'Tis term'd ''Wild Lake Michigan." 

The shores, like mountains steep and high, 
Are all composed of crumbling sand ; 

If underneath a wreck does lie 
One man in ten may chance to land. 


No friendly branch or root projects 
To clamber from the rolling- waves, 

Kind Heaven alone is all protects 

Poor shipwrecked tars from watery graves. 

And yet I love the billows wild, 

When lashed by winds and capped with foam, 
When mountain waves on waves are piled, 

That seem to touch heav'n's cloudy dome ; 
Then downward sink in vallej^s deep. 

Of mad'ning-, swirling-, dashing spray, 
Until, rebounding, on they sw^eep 

In unobstructed force away. 


A few short weeks will make a change, 

Important in our town. 
When moral laws will take effect. 

And vice be trampled down ; 
When hoary Frost will take his leave 

Of every hill and plain ; 
And smiling Spring, the poor man's hope. 

With us once more will reign, 


The merchant's safe he'll then unlock 

To con his dollars o'er. 
And then invest judiciously. 

In hope of g-aining- more ; 
The Avheels of enterpiise shall hum, 

Which long" inactive staid, 
AVhen those much looked for days shall come, 

To give new life to trade. 

And we who must by labor live 

Will hail the joyous sound ; 
Our willing hands we'll freely give. 

To make the air resound. 
With steady din of work restored. 

When all may laugh and sing. 
To know dull times, so much deplored, 

Shall vanish with the Spring. 


Dear Madam : — With feelings of sadness, 
I'm forced to address j'-ou in rh^^me ; 

Your letters will drive me to madness. 
Unless you repent of the crime. 


At first, when I tlioug'ht you were joking-, 

I sent 3^ou soft nonsense g-alore, 
But, madam, of late you're provol^ing-. 

And piercing- my heart to tlie core. 

The "g-usli " tliat's contained in eacli letter, 
Your mode of describing- your charms ; 

Your hope, that for worse or for better, 
I'll ling-er my life in your arms. 

So ''g-entle, kind-hearted and loving-," 
An angel you'd have me believe. 

Whose husband at present is roving- 
All over the land on " French leave." 

You never have Avritten the reason 

He fled from his lodg-ing- and board ; 
His meals — were the}^ ready in season ? 

In jars did you have the last word ? 
Have you read of a woman called " Caudle?" 

(Would that all Mrs. Caudles were hung-.) 
Now, say, did your husband skedaddle 

Away from 3'our musical tong-ue ? 

You've asked for my true name so often, 
I'll answer, don't think me a liar. 

May my eyes be stone blind in my coffin. 
If my name isn't Shandy Maguire. 



The ladies in youth called me ^' Candy/' 
Because I was sweet — what a shame 

That mother should chang-e it to Shandy, 
Hence, madam, my ^'comical name." 

You've two little cherubs, you write me, 

Both handsome, the same as their ma, 
Whose juvenile tricks will delig-ht me. 

When once I'm installed as their pa. 
Oh ! know you, dear madam, I'd rather. 

One thousand times sooner, I swear ! 
Have one of my own call me "father," 

Than scores like your beautiful pair. 

Your eyes, they are black, and what matter : 

I care not a" fig- for their hue ; 
It never puts meat on the platter. 

Be the shade black or heavenly blue ; 
Were you and I coupled together. 

Your husband then chance to come back, 
I'm certain, dear madam, tliat either 

Or both of our eyes would be black. 

The poor devil sighed for his freedom. 

Like many another, I know. 
Whose wrongs do impulsively lead 'em 
On roving commissions to go. 


He dreamt in his youth and his fond ag-e 

Of ang-els, and conjug-al vows, 
But awoke to confinement and bondage, 

And petticoat rule in his spouse. 

Because in m^^ rhymes I feel jolly, 
^ And conjure a smile to the face. 
Don't think, from my capers and folly, 

I sig-h for your absent love's place : 
I'm sure it is better to tarry 

And die an old bachelor, too, 
Than take any chances, and marrj^ 

A bouncing ^' grass widow " like you. 

A widow, plump, fair and kind-hearted, 
In garments of mourning arrayed. 

Whose husband from life has departed, 
I'd marry as soon as a maid. 

When cold, icy blasts would sweep o'er us, 
Companioned by direst alarms, 

I'd laugh at the wrath of old Boreas, 
And weather the gale in her arms. 

So your hair is an auburn color. 

In ringlets adorning your head ; 
I'll wager my life to one dollar 

Your hair is a carroty red. 


If you stood on a curve, and a strang-er, 
The lever I'd quickly throw back, 

And I'd think 3^ou a signal of danger. 

Dropped otf from some train on the track. 

Were you ever possessed of a father ? 

If so, for his sake will you cease ? 
Have you ever been blessed with a mother ? 

If you were, in her name g-rant me peace. 
Your sisters and brothers, if any, 

I hope will advise you to pause ; 
At present our jails have too many 

Like you, for transgressing the laws. 

Now madam, I pray you, give over ; 

Have patience, at least till we're sure 
Your husband lies under the clover. 
And then we can slumber secure. 
Don't let my '^ droll warbling " allure you. 

To be my "heart's queen" don't aspire. 
For you'll not find a fool, I assure you. 

In him who's called Shandy Maguire. 



Ah, Bob, my old friend, as the snow-flakes are 
I pen you these Hnes at Ontario's shore ; 
Perhaps you'fl peruse them, contentedly lying, 
Where Nature too partially squanders her 
store ; 
Where song birds melodiously sing in the bowers, 
And mocking' birds whistle their notes on each 
Where love-tales are whispered thro' pathways 
of flowers ; 
Ah, those are the scenes that are treasured by 

Enjoy them, my friend, but in moments of leisure, 

Remember the da3^s that have fled long ago ; 
Yes,think of the days and the evenings of pleasure 

We sported together where gulf breezes blow. 
This life is a lease, you must sing- and be jolly, 

Bob, quaff the full boAvl of enjo3^ment to-day. 
To-morrow old Care may set brakes on your folly, 

And stall you, my boy, in the midst of your 

Oh, often, I think, 'tis a dire occupation 

We follow, in order to gain us our bread ; 
"IZe died at his post,'' is a poor consolation. 


To steal from our graves and peruse when 
we're dead ; 
1 only can speak for the son of my mother, 

And tell you " such honors I really decline," 
Ah, yes ; and I think Bob, I know of one other 
Whose answer would he in such language as 

Consider the dangers that hourly beset us ; 

A wheel's revolution may end our career. 
Tho' brave be our acts, our officials forget us 

When mangled, and slaughtered, and cold on 
our bier. 

We never have learned that Boards of Directors 
Donate the poor widows so much b^^ the year, 

Nor yet have we known them as orphans' pro- 
Rewarding the acts of a brave engineer. 

A switch may be wrong or a bridge ma3^ be rotten, 

A trestle but poorl^^ constructed, and fall. 
Orders be loosely obeyed or forgotten. 

And trains may be met without orders at all ; 
A tire may burst or a boiler go crashing, 

The rods and the pins into pieces may fly, 
A rail may be broken, and send us on dashing, 

Unshrived to the Court of our Maker, on hisrh. 


But Bob, here's a truce to each g-loomy forebod- 

Away from such thoug-hts you and I must 

A laugh conquers Care, when our hearts he's 

There's time to shake hands with old Nick when 
we meet. 
Bad luck to his black, smoky phiz, we defy him. 

His old cloven foot you and I cannot scare, 

With g-uns double-shotted, if ever we spy him, 

We'll riddle his carcass with broadsides of 

Your lady love g-ives me a g-lance full of meaning-, , 

As much as to say, ^'M3^ poor heart is in pain," 
The dreg's of despair I am sure she is draining-. 

And g"ladly she'd hail your return Bob, ag-ain, 
'Tis sad to behold the dear g-irl bewailing- 

Her lover, who's far, far away from her view. 
Sooner than see her health rapidly failing", 

Old friend, I will court her by proxy for you. 

No doubt you are still flirting- g'ayly with Nettie, 
Who lives in the rose-trelhsed cot at Spring- 
Hill ; 

Who strolled at your side down the beach to 


And floated all nig'lit in the waltz and quadrille. 
And, oh, the delig'ht coming- home from the party ! 

When weary, up close to your arms she would 
creep ; 
And kisses you'd steal by the hundred, my hearty, 

As soundly the darling* pretended to sleep. 

Regards to the boys who of yore cong-regated 

Where mirth and her minions hold carnival 
still : 
A sigh for our brothers Avhose lives were ill-fated, 

Ah, light be the turf on Cole, Quigley and Hill. 
And now, you'll remember I hold jou my debtor, 

I hope you'll devote me an evening or two. 
I'll gladly peruse all the news from a letter 

That's penned in the South by a "Snow Bird" 
like you. 


The clergy are now agitating* the word, 

The Bible is ransacked all 'round. 
Fierce thunder from pulpits, on all sides is heard. 

Proclaiming* where hell can be found. 
Orthodoxy declares it a bottomless pit. 

Overflowing with brimstone and flre. 
Where millions on millions, must i^oasbon a spit, 

Impaled b}^ God's merciless ire. 


Each preacher he fashions a hell of his own, 
To suit both the age and the clime, 

God prosper their labor, we'll leave them alone, 
They're having- a hell-roaring- time. 

I enter the list of explorers and claim, 

To know all its bearing-s rig-ht well ; 

What's more, these few lines are inspired by the 

And the fearful surrounding-s of hell. 

Rig-ht here on thisearthas it travels thro' space, 

From equator away to the polls, 
I freely maintain is that terrible place. 

Where we suffer in bodies and souls. 
We existed before, but in some other sphere. 

Some planet remote in the sky. 
Where for leading- a reckless and sinful career. 

We were kicked from that region on hig-h. 

We starving- down here were the rich ones up 

Who clung- to our miserly hoard, 
Every beg-g-ar we see was some proud millionaire, 

Whom the wants of his fellows ig-nored ; 
And those on this earth with their pockets well 

With all the g-ood tliing-s which we love, 


The merciful God of creation clesig-ned, 
Tliat they were the beg'g-ars above. 

We are now the reverse of what once we have 

And you know the old sa3ing- rig-ht w^ell : 
*' Put a begg'ar on horse-back he'll never draw 

'Till he rides through the portals of hell ; " 
Fast horses we rode up above, but we rolled 

In the shape of a babe on this earth, 
And our first tiny squall did the sad tale unfold, 

Where we entered the moment of birth. 

When our flesh is all purged, and this pilgrimage 
Our remains will be laid in the tomb ; 
And from there we'll ascend to our riches once 
Far away from this vallej^ of gloom. 

There the rich ones of earth for subsistence must 

They must struggle in bondage and strife. 
And we beggars will dally in endless delight, 

If we onlv can think of tliis life. 



Now the summer daj^s are dying-, 
And the leaves will soon be flying-, 
When the chilling- winds come hieing-, 

Kittie, dear, 
All our pleasure trips are over. 
That we made throug-h scented clover. 
Since you chose me as your lover, 

Kittie, dear. 

All the hours we strolled tog-ether. 
In the g-lorious suni;y weather, 
With our hearts as lig-ht as feather, 

Kittie, dear, 
Have been full of untold blisses, 
Sig-hs, and vows, and humid kisses. 
With you, fairest of young- misses. 

Kittie, dear. 

Soon the snow-flakes will be falling-. 
And the cold intense, appalling-. 
And my heart for yours be calling-, 

Kittie, dear. 
Now I think 'tis time to many. 
Or my hopes may all miscarry, 
If you long-er wish to tarry, 

Kittie, dear. 


We are 3^0 ung- and both true-hearted, 
And upon hfe's road we're started ; 
Let us wed and ne'er he parted, 

Kittie, dear. 
While w^e've health Ave 're full of treasures ; 
We'll have joy in flowing- measures. 
And our share of wedded pleasures, 

Kittie, dear. 

Ah ! that smile is answer dearly. 
And it speaks in tones sincerely ; 
Better thus than tell me tearly, 

Kittie, dear. 
Time will make our hearts g-row fonder ; 
In the future days we'll wander. 
And on scenes like this we'll ponder, 

Kittie dear. 


Held on the Beach, near the Dorian House, Norwalk, Ct., October 22, 1875 

Since first in very tender age 
I made my how on Nature's stag-e 
To act my part, and fill the plan 
Tliat God assigns to every man ; 
Since first I heard, in accents loud, 
The plaudits of the meriy crowd. 


I ne'er before did feel such joy 

Of moments pm^e, without alloy, 

As when I stood before tlie throng-, 

An honored bard of simple song*, 

On Norfolk's beach, where mirth held sway. 

One ne'er-to-be-forg-otten day ; 

Where tables all were freig-hted down, 

And every indication bore 
That plenty would our banquet crown 

With choicest g-ifts of sea and shore. 

From far Pacific's distant slope, 

Where rivers rim o'er g'olden sands. 
Came brothers full of life and hope, 

With noble hearts and friendly hands. 
From Maine, where fierce Atlantic's I'oar 
Re-echoes on her rock-bound shore. 
Came representatives along". 
With words of cheer to swell the throng-. 
The Canadas, in regions North, 
Sent many noble offspring- forth. 
Whose honest features impress bore 
Of summer suns and winter's hoar. 
From Dixie's land, whose name can thrill 
The tender chords of memory still ; 
Where tropic breezes waft perfume 
Around her shore's perennial bloom. 


Came brothers, sent with ticling-s g-rancl 

Of noble deeds in Dixie's land. 

The North, the South, the West, the East, 

Were represented at the Feast. 

No nig'g'ard store, no miser's fare. 

But choicest viands, rich and rare ; 

As course on course did disappear. 

Each new succeeding- course was near, 

Till appetite at last did say, 

" Our hosts are victors here to-da^^ " 

E'en then the remnant on the shore 

Would feed as nian\' mortals more. 

As I'ound these bounteous tables sate, 

Within the Wooden-Nutmeg State. 

Old ocean's depths were ransacked o'er. 

To tempt our appetites on shore ; 

And Neptune oft was forced to yield 

The palm to forest, stream and field. 

No epicure could ever wish 

To taste a richer flavored dish ; 

No banquet hall in olden time. 

When Rome her conquering tlag unfurled. 
Its equal spread throughout her clime. 

When reigning mistress of the Avorld. 

And, think you that I mean to slight. 
By silence, those divinely fair— 


The g'alaxy ol' beauty brig'ht — 

That deig-iiecl to g-race that banquet there ? 
And, think you, that my heart is cold, 
And cast in rugged nature's mold ? 
My eyes grown dim, obscured b^^ haze, 
And clouded o'er by lucre's blaze ? 
Ah, no ! that dear enraptured thrill 
Of early youth keeps bounding still. 
When years accumulate on 3^ears ; 
When hoary age brings groans and tears ; 
When sluggish streams move through my veins 
And scarce the breath of life remains ; 
E'en then, in death's dark, dismal hour, 
I'd own the sway of woman's power. 
I only fear'd m^^ skill to sing. 
And make my harp responsive ring- 
To thoughts, whose sweet, resistless flow 
Comes surging up from depths below. 
Where woman steers by beauty's chart 
Around the tendrils of my heart. 
Her e^^es are beacons, flashing biiglit. 

And when their beams encircle me, 
I have no fear in darkest night 

To navigate life's stormy sea. 

But one there was amongst the rest, 
A lady^ eloquent and fair ; 


A peerless C[Lieen in song- and jest, 

With dreamy eyes and wavy hair. 
Her words, ev^oking- smiles or tears, 

Soon won their way throug-h social bands. 
And played as sweetly round our ears 

As harps when touched by ang-el hands. 
And when the parting- hour dre\y nig'h. 

We there were 'thralled b^^ beauty's spell, 
The murmured words: "kind friends,g'ood^b3'e" 

The silvery tone : " farewell, farewell." 

She left as left those ang-els biig'ht. 
When summon 'd olf from mortal ken. 

In dazzling' rays of heavenl}^ lis"l^t, 
In olden time, from sons of men. 

Kind benefactors, noble men ! 

How ma}^ a man from labor's ranks 
Employ a rude, untutor'd pen, 

To tender you our heartful thanks ? 

My noble Chief, your pardon g'ive. 

If for this moment I aspire 
To be the Chief Executive 

Of brothers bred to dang-er dire ; 
The men who foremost lead the van. 

Who first must feel the deadly shock ; 


And who in trying- moments can 
Stand firm, unflinching- as the roclv ; 

It is for those, that fearless throng", 
I fain would have my thanks resound, 

I merely clothe in simple song- 
Your words upon Long- Island Sound. 

Kind benefactors, now I pray, 

May life to you, and all 3^0 ur kin. 
Be one continued cloudless ra.y. 

Where Fortune's smiles come teeming- in ; 
And when life's evening- draws a-nig"h. 

When all must kiss the chast'ning- rod. 
May you to realms beyond the sky 

Be call'd, to dwell in peace with God. 
'Tis'not because of princely fare. 

Nor "Ninety's" speed o'er splendid track, 
That swift, and safely, bore us there. 

And safe, and swiftly, broug-ht us back. 
Ah, no ! but 'tis because you stand 

Where noble friends before 3^ou stood ; 
Who recog-nized throug-hout the land. 

Our noble, peerless Brotherhood. 

But hark ! I hear a mig-hty sound ; 

'Tis circling- near from States I'emote ; 

It makes the very earth resound, 



As springing' from one single throat ; 
It is my brothers' thankful cr}^, 

Which hovers o'er my feeble pen ; 
Twelve thousand tongues resounding high 

In one sincerely felt Amen. 


Let the bells peal along, 

With vibrations of song, 
On the clear frosty air of the night ; 

Let them sound in our ears, 

Till they banish our fears, 
And our hearts feel the thrills of delight ; 

For old Christmas is here. 

And we greet it sincere ; 
'Tis a time when we sit round the board ; 

Our dear friends from afar. 

Find the doors all ajar. 
And the larder with good things well stored. 

"Merry Christmas !" we cry. 
And the glance of each eye 
Is a sure indication of mirth ; 

Let the wassail bowl flow 
In the radiant glow^ 


Which the fire sends around on tlie lieartli ; 

As tlie g"lasses we clinic, 

Full of care-killing- drink, 
Let our toasts of true friendship arise ; 

This one nig-ht in the year, 

We can keep back the tear, 
Which too often is found in our eyes. 

Oh ! I love the dear time 
That I sing" in my rhyme, 

When good will to all men should he found 
In our hearts and our brains, 
And be sung in our strains. 

Till our voices in union resound. 
There is time for our care^ 
For our grief and despair — 

In the months rolling rapidl^^ by, 
But to-night w^e must sing. 
Ere the moments take wing. 

And away from our presence they fly. 


Thinks I, here's the month pretty near at an end. 
And how have I squander'd my time ? 

I pledged myself, truly, this year I would send 
Every month to the Journal, a rhyme, 


My subject ? I don't know of what I shall write, 

But patience, dear reader, I'll try 
And g-ive you a confab, took place t'other nigiit, 

Between my old mother and I. 

The noble old dame, with her hair silvered o'er. 

Sat close by my side, at the fire. 
The g-round with the frost of December, was hoar. 

But stilled was the Storm King-'s ire. 
Her eyes lal)ored hard tliro' the mists of the years, 

To read the Good Word, but in vain. 
She laid down the book 'mid her fast falling- tears, 

And thus, of old age did complain. 

" Oh Shandy, my life-tide is ebbing awa^^, 

The gloom gathers fast, and I feel 
A dread of the dawn of eternity's day — 

That soon shall its terrors reveal. 
A pilgrimage here on this earth I have made. 

Yet, life has had blessings for me. 
But Shandy, acushla ! I'm greatly afraid 

An orphan, you shortly will be." 

''My mother," I said, as I kissed her dear brow ; 

Touched lightly by sixty odd 3^ears, 
"Cheer up, let my future not trouble you now, 

No need for your fast falling tears, 


Because there's an old woman's claug-hter I know. 
Possessed of both beauty and grace, 

Who fervently prays to the tomb you may go, 
Until she steps into your place." 

(jod bless me ! the change on her features that 

Was joyful, indeed, to behold ; 
Life kindled anew, and you'd say the dear dame 

Was neither decrepit nor old. 
'Twas alwa^^s my plan when she talked about 

To tell her, another was nigh 
Who'd care for her son, she'd recover her breath. 

And the olden time glance of her eye. 

M^^ brothers — all you of the Benedict-clan — 

Whose wives are inclined to complain, 
Who'll tell you they're d3dng, just follow my plan. 

Console them in just such a strain. 
Yes tell them, as I told my mother that night ; 

I'll wager my life all their aches. 
Their pains, and their ailments, will quickl v take 

If not I will forfeit the stakes. 

" Ah Shandy, you rascal, you'd Avish I were dead 
And out of your sight in the grave." 


*' Oh no, my dear mother," I soothmgiy said, 
" 'Tis yourself about orphans did rave." 

"But Shandy, confess, you've a wife in your 
" Yes, mother, resplendent in charms. 

And just in a month from the moment 3^ou die 
I'll have the dear g-irl in my arms." 

" You rascal, I'll live to defeat all your plans. 

When the evening* arrives you Avill see 
Me step to the altar, forbidding- the bans, 

No grandmother titles for me." 
I kissed her good night, I vacated ni}^ seat. 

To meet with as jolly a crew 
As ever tripped lightly, on musical feet, 

In the ball-room of " One-Fifty-Two." 

Dear reader, in dreams have you ever been bless'd 

With views of those mansions of light, 
Where souls, weary laden, find refuge and rest, 

In those realms of endless delig'ht ? 
A counterpart here, on this earth 3^ou would find 

That night of our annual ball. 
The sight would be alwa^^s engraved on your mind 

Of splendor adorning our hall. 

Flags, banners, and bunting-, suspended in air, 
With mirrors — life-size — on the wall. 


Choice painting-s, selected with excellent care, 

Profusely adorning- the hall. 
And rare birds , whose melody swell 'don th e niglit , 

In waves of voluptuous song-, 
With fountains that played in the chandelier's 

Admired by a beautiful throng*. 

The hours flew by on winged feet as we lanced 

To music's most ravishing- thrill, 
The minutes but seconds all seemed as we danced 

The schottische, the waltz, and quadiille. 
Gra3^ streaks in the east brought the night to a 

The moments too rapidly flew ; 
A night that will ne'er be forgotten by those 

In the ball-room of " One-Fifty-Two." 

I jumped into bed a short nap to secure, 

In prayers not a second did waste. 
My e^^es were just closed, when a voice at the door 

8aid, ^^ Shandy, your wanting in haste. 
You're marked on the board, so be off with your 

The caller exclaimed with a sneer. 
And up from my heart that was surging in pain 

I cursed him in laniruac-e sincere. 



I've a castle near a vvildwoocl, 

Trellised o'er with ivy g-reen ; 
Whei'e I've often played in childhood, 

And in older years am seen. 
There I go to sit and ponder, 

After many a toilsome hom% 
Where my heart can throb the fonder, 

In a sun-lit dreamer's bower. 

In this castle lives a maiden, 

True and tender as the dove ; 
One whose heart is over-laden 

With the purest kind of love. 
She has sunn3^ ring-lets flowing*, 

O'er her neck and shoulders, too. 
And her lips are ripe and glowing, 

With the cherry's crimson hue. 

I have gilded coaches rolling, 

On the gravelled walks around ; 
Blooded steeds, which need controlling, 

As they restive paw the ground ; 
But my grooms are skilled and daring. 

Every man within my train. 
Who has brand new livery wearing, 

Loves my castle built in Spain. 


There are trees, where birds, dehghted. 

Sing- in choi'us loud and long- ; 
1 can never say I'm shg-hted, 

For they give me joyous song*. 
I have fountains constant pla3ang', 

In the sunhght on the lawn ; 
And the breeze keeps hammocks swaying, 

Where my vassals sleep till dawn. 

Mirth and music, fun and laughter, 

Ev'ry moment, all may hear; 
From the draw-bridg-e to the rafter. 

There is neither care nor fear ; 
For each moment has its pleasure. 

And we man^^ bumpers drain. 
All how o'er with honest measure. 

In my castle built in Spain. 

I have friends who sit beside me, 

All like brothers tried and true; 
They have ne'er been known to chide me. 

Nor reflect on what I do ; 
In their eyes I read affection. 

All are sociably inclined. 
Not a sing"le imperfection 

Can be found in heart or mind. 


I have coffers flowing- over 

With the treasures of the hind, 
Where they are you'll soon discover, 

If you'll join my happy hand. 
I will lead you straight and willing 

In amongst the hoarded gain, 
Where ^^ou'll find your bosom thrillin 

At m^^ riches o'er in Spain. 

I am monarch of this castle, 

And I reign with royal power ; 
Not a lieg-eman nor a vassal 

But may have a prince's dower ; 
For I ne'er can miss m^^ treasures, 

Tho' they millions take away. 
Still they'll leave me flowing measures 

To distribute ev'ry day. 

I have musty tomes of learning. 

Thoughts of men long' dead and gone. 
Where I hourly spend discerning 

What their brains were bent upon. 
Ancient lore, where infant Science 

Struggles into life and day ; 
Written with a sure reliance 

That upon life's pag-e 'twould stay. 


There Religion, pure and liolj^, 

At her altars may be seen ; 
Out among'st the meek and lowly 

Oft she strays with modest mien. 
In her footsteps all may w^ander, 

For she leads to ligiit divine, 
To a castle builded yonder, 

Where the stars of g-lory shine. 

I would like to staj" for ever 

In its g-rand old massive halls. 
Where the clouds of care come never, 

Nor a shade of trouble falls. 
But, alas ! I cannot tarry. 

Save to give my weary brahi 
Time to rest from grievous Avorry, 

In m^^ castle o'er in Spain. 


Dear Kittle : Last nigiit I was building- 

A beautiful castle in Spain. 
I sat ornamenting' and gilding*, 

Tormented with torturing- pain. 
A voice all around me kept ringing-, 

Like musical peals from above, 


Some fair one melodiously singing-, 
Of compliments, kisses, and love. 

My castle completed, I wandered 

O'er walks of bright, velvety green. 
One brief little moment I pondered 

On who I'd select as m^^ queen ; 
The very next moment I found her, 

As Cupid let quiver his dart, 
And there on my bosom I crowned her. 

The queen of my castle and heart. 

With feelings of exquisite pleasure. 

We dallied the evening along ; 
'Twas joy to my heart be^^ond measure. 

To hear her melodious in song. 
With compliments, love, and sweet kisses, 

The moments too rapidly flew ; 
A pause in our melting caresses 

Soon told me my darling was you. 

"Oh, Heaven !" I cried, *'in thy power 

Send blessings, the choicest above. 
To give to my queen in her bower. 

With compliments, kisses, and love. 
I awoke suflocating- with pleasure. 

The sun through my lattice did gleam. 
And faded away was my treasure ; 

Dear Kittie, 'twas only a dream. 



The moon was just creeping- up over the hill, 

As I strolled to the tiyst where my lover 
Was waiting-. My heart with aflFection did thrill, 

The dear little maid to discover. 
The nig-hting-ale's notes full of melody were, 
The evening" was balm^^, the sweet summer air 
Was laden with bloom of the hawthorne there, 
And essence of newlj^-cut clover. 

I found her in tears, but I kissed them away. 
And both of our breaths were united ; 
I told her to hurry without more delay. 

Too long- our affections were plig-hted. 
I showed her the ring- and I told her the priest 
Was waiting with g-uests to partake of the feast, 
I could see that her weeping-quitesuddenly ceased. 
And she nestled up closely, delighted. 

She feared that her mother would never consent 

To her wedding a light-hearted rover ; 
"If 3'ou take her advice," I replied,* ^you'll repent. 
And, besides, you will lose a true lover." 
*'Then we'll marry, she said, "let us hasten away 
Or my feelings will change if I longer delay." 
It was thus I w^on Mollie, the frolicsome fay, 
Micl the perfume of newly-cut clover. 



Written after reading her lines on "The Engineer." 

Miss Avery, pardon this freak of my Muse, 
To-nig-lit she insists on me taking* a cruise 
All over the string-s of m^^ harp, for a chime. 
To tickle your fancy, in shape of a rhyme ; 
Perhaps I am hasty in making- my how. 
And likely to get myself into a row. 
That is if you think I am making too free. 
Then train all your guns for a broadside on me. 

I cannot resist the temptation to write ; 
My goosequill is "down in the corner" to-night. 
Since reading your lines so truly sincere 
In praise of the poor, over-worked engineer. 
Thinks I to myself " Arrah Shandy, avick. 
That girl's a trump, and she's good for a trick, 
No matter how poor be the cards she may hold. 
There's one you can't purchasefor blarney orgold. 
You'll find it a heart, and may wager your life 
That card will yet make her an engineer's wife." 

God knows I have often repined at my lot, 
When'er the old mill wasn't steaming and hot — 
And this is the clime, and the time of the yea.r, 
To torture the heart of the poor engineer — 
I've many times jumped froin the seat in a rage 


And thrown my old hat at the face of the ^uiig-e ; 
My rig-ht eye devoted to watching- the track ; 
The left one admiring- the pointer trot hack ; 
With snowdrifts ahead, alongside, and behind ; 
My nose of an indigo hue from the wind ; 
When slipping, and sliding, and era wiling along, 
No prospect to cheer me, hut everything- wrong, 
In midst of such dire desolation, my lot 
Is sweetened to think we're not wholly forgot. 
And, mind you, a great many times I could name 
Of perilous moments which add to our fame ; 
But what is the use ? I would rather by far 
Have a seat by your side in a drawing-room car. 
And whisper my gratitude into your ear. 
As thanks for 3^our lines on the poor engineer. 

I hope you'll not think I have too much to do 
By asking a short, little question of you, 
"Have you a young chap within glance of your 

Who throws you a kiss as he passes you by ; 
Who makes you a movement — a wave of the 

hand ? 
No matter, so long as you both understand." 
Your answer to me will be "3^es," I'll go bail 
Your lover is some noble knight of the rail. 
Who has earned his spurs, and will wear them 



By faithful attention to throttle and lever ; 
If not will you gTant my most earnest desire, 
Reflect, and become Mrs. Shandy Mag'uire ? 

How happy I'd feel on the railroad of life 

ir I had a girl like you for a wife. 

Td scorn all dang-ers, privations, and dread. 

My heart would be lig-ht, not an ache in my head , 

We'd live just as happy as birds in a cag-e. 

Surrounded by offspring- to bless our old ag^e ; 

And, now, my dear friend, do not think me too 

By saying- you'd suit me, no matter how old, 
I don't care a fig- for a g'irl of sixteen. 
No more than I love stealing- apples when g-reen ; 
With g-rapes 'tis the same, don't we prize them 

the most. 
And find them delicious, when touched by the 

frost ? 
Don't think 3^our admirer inclined to a joke 
When saying- — old pipes are the best for a smoke ; 
The wreathes from a dudeen are sweeter by far, 
Than those from a meerschaum,or f rag-rant cig-ar; 
Just so with a woman, withg-rapes, and my pipe, 
She's always the sweetest when lusciously ripe ; 
These similes all may sound vulg-ar to you, 
Thej-'re such as I have but you'll find they are 



In behalf of the boys I I'eturn you my thanks, 
I hope 3^0 u will win a g'ood prize from our ranks, 
A brave-hearted, handsome, and dashing- young- 

Who'll ne'er give you cause of your choice to 

repent ; 
If such a young fellow you fail to procure, 
Just drop me a line, and I'll answer you sure. 
Who knows hut together we'll yet have the road, 
Assisting- each other to carry life's load. 


Show some mercy to the erring-. 

Do not kick a brother down ; 
Let him feel your clasp fraternal. 

And conceal the cruel frown ; 
For his heart is only human. 

And temptation's very strong ; 
Had he but superior reason. 

He could guard against the wrong. 

If our hearts were all transparent. 

And exposed to other's view. 

We might not be so determined 

Fallen brothers to pursue ; 



But while hid from observation 
Are our many vicious deeds, 

We Avill SAving- the lash of torture 
On our victim 'till he bleeds. 

I have heard "stop thief" resounding- 
On the streets before to-day, 

From the throats of cunning rascals, 
Who could hide their theft away ; 

While the luckless wretch who pilfer'd 
' A much needed loaf of bread. 

Was condemned before the people. 
And away to prison led. 

If a sister errs she never 

Can regain the g-round she lost ; 
And her heartless sex are ready 

To condemn her acts the most ; 
They will not reflect in pity 

On the ills she must endure. 
But they scourge her Avith a veng-eance, 

While her wronger is secure. 

If we'd judge mankind in mercy. 
We would surely fill the plan. 

That our Saviour from the Mountain 
Gave for government of man ; 


And perhaps He'd judge us kindly, 
When we'd stand before His throne, 

For the mercy shown to others 
Will to us by Him be shown. 


Ah ! here comes the Journal, 'tis promptly on 

Perusing its pag-es to me is a pleasure ; 
I eag-erly g-loat o'er each letter and rhyme, 

Regardless of purity, diction or measure. 
Who cares for a lack of g-rammatical rules ? 

They never were written by critics or scholars. 
Who boast of the years they have slumbered in 

Then value a man by his number of dollars. 

What's here ? Why a little request, as I live, 
I judg-e on perusal it comes from a brother. 

Who, in a few lines, a toug-h subject can g-ive. 
When making- reply to the son of mj^ mother. 

I never could swallow historical lore, 

'Twas always considered a sig-n of g-ood breed- 

To sit with a few of the boys at the door. 
And mimic all those who were fond of such 


''Perhaps I'm a nobleman traveling- incog', 
Who squandered my youth near the lakes of 
Killarney : " 
Perhaps at New York I have seen your phizog, 
And heard your sweet tongue running over 
with blarney. 
In heraldry's books noble lineage I trace : 

I am one of the Macs, and will ever stand by 
Consigned to oblivion in shame and disgrace 
Be the renegade Avretch who would basely deny 

I fain would repl}^ to your honest request, 

Provided my Muse was accomplished and 
ready ; 
Of late she's indulging in indolent rest. 

And rather inclined to be prudish and steady. 
And yet what a subject, 'tis worthy the pen 

Of learning's most noble and gifted of sages. 
To sing of fair daughters and brave-hearted men 

That Erin can boast on her liistory's pages. 

Each hill- top and valley adorning her land. 
Have witnessed the tide of her sons' crimson 

slaughter ; 
Hei' passes had sx^artans, each brave-hearted 



Have strug-gied for freedom till blood ran like 
And centuries hence, sli ould the fight be prolonged , 
Her tyrants will find in her cause we grow 
Her martyrs on scaffolds declared she was 
When dying, their latest fond breath was "God 
save her." 

In life's early years through hei^ gem-spangled 
I sported my happiest, sunniest hours. 
Inhaling perfume that the sweet-brier yields, 

And weaving rich garlands of beautiful flowers. 
Long years have elapsed since I parted her shores. 

And memory fails to recall early faces. 
Yet, land of my birth, from my heart's richest 
I send you an offspring's fond love and em- 

Though dear to my heart is the land of my birth, 
And worthy of true patriotic affection, 

Yet, dearer Columbia, fair queen of the earth. 
That gives the oi^pressed of all nations protec- 


Oh, long" may her banner float g-loriously free, 
O'er milhons of men in fraternal communion, 

Proud emblem of freedom on land and on sea, 
All hail to the starry-g-emmed flag- of thisUnion. 


Come, my baby, till I kiss you. 

On your flushy, frowsy face. 
You will get a royal welcome 

To our humble little place. 
We have waited for your coming 

With anxiety sincere, 
But the Lord be thanked, my cherub. 

You are landed safely here. 

'Tis a world bleak and cheerless. 

Which you've entered to reside. 
But a heart both brave and fearless. 

Can enjoy its sunny side. 
We will guard you late and early. 

Give you most devoted care, 
'Till you're old enough to battle 

With its variable air. 


Ah ! your mother's eyes are beammg- 

From beneath your tiny lids, 
And they send me backward dreaming-, 

Mong-st the songs of Katydids ; 
By the moonhght, in the valley, 

Where we rambled side by side, 
On the evening- when she promised 

To become my blooming* bride. 

Little strang-er ! there is pleasure 

In recalling- such a scene. 
I would not exchang-e my treasure 

For the ransom of a queen. 
You will find her true and tender 

And affectionate to thee ;' 
She'll be g-entle and devoted. 

As she's always been to me. 

When you're old enoug-h to toddle 

With your dimpled hand in mine. 
We will ramble out tog-ether, 

And I'll cull you flowers fine ; 
We will listen to the warbling- 

Of the birds upon the trees. 
And amid the scented clover, 

We will chase the humming' bees. 


We've a cozy cot, to lull 3^ou 

Into quiet, peaceful rest ; 
And 3^ou're sure of healthy nurture 

From 3^0 ur mother's tender breast ; 
And we'll lavish on you kindness, 

And we'll fondle 3^ou with love. 
For you look just like an ang-el 

Heaven sent us from above. 


There are moments Avhen life does not seem worth 

When faint and exhausted we're glad to lie 
down ; 
When Miss Fortune, instead of donating- a bless- 

Repulses us off with a withering- frown. 

When we count on a share of her manifold treas- 
The whimsical jade is uncertain and coy ; 
And she g-uards in a miserly manner her meas- 
A portion of which we would g-ladly enjoy. 


Many times I have tender'd unbounded affection, 
And earnestly sued for a smile in exchang-e ; 

But I never yet got her false heart in subjection, 
Although I have tried till my brains I'd de- 

She is like a. young" maiden, light-hearted and 

Who boasts of her conquests, still seeking- for 
more — 

Like a fair one who oft kept my heart in a pickle — 

The same as she did many others before. 

But for Hope, the deceiver, in language uncivil, 
I'd rail at her hourly, for days that are g-one. 
When she treated me worse than her kinsman, 
the Devil, 

E'en now she deludinglj^ beckons me on. 

I will follow once more and perhaps my devotion 
May meet from the damsel a fitting- reward ; 

Who can tell but at last she has taken the notion. 
To change into smiles all the tears of tlie bard ? 



Hear the robin red-breast full of harmony trill. 
As he i;;'athers the crumbs which I placed on the 

For his simple repast he repays me in song*, 
Which he pours from his throat in g-lad numbers 

He is joyous, domestic, and free from all care ; 
He will hop to Avithin a few feet of my chair ; 
He is fearless, because of the kindness he's shown. 
And 'tis seldom he leaves me to ponder alone. 

Little red-breasted warbler, you've found out the 

Which your instinct has taug-ht you will reach to 

my heart ; 
For each note strikes a chord of affection, whose 

W^ill respond to no touch but of music alone : 
And your melody bubbles in fountains so brig-ht. 
That I g'ladly enjoy every song* with delig'ht, 
And I feel full of praise for the gifts you bestow. 
With your sense-charming- song in the sun's 

g-olden giow. 

'Mong'st the denizens winging- their way througii 
the air. 

Oh. I prize you the dearest of all that are there: 


For tradition relates at the cross you were found, 
When the blood of the Saviour flowed to the 

And in pity 3^our breast 3'ou plunged into the tide, 
Where it crimsoned your plumage on Calvary's 

Full of gentleness ever, dear songster, j^ou'll be. 
And you'll always be welcome, sweet warbler, to 



Dear Madam : 

Since first I was kicked through the portals of life, 

To battle m^^ way in oppression and pain. 
When seeking subsistence in warfare and strife. 
With naught to assist me but muscle and brain, 
I've met with far more than my share of the ills 
That are knowTi to us all as " mortality's pills, " 
I have seen the cold glance of ineffable scorn, 
Flung into ni}" face since the hour I was born. 
And many times, madam, I've fallen b^^ the way, 
Discouraged, down-hearted, depressed with the 

The good I have done as I journey'd along. 
Was always pronounced inexcusably wrong ; 


Suspicion siirrouiuls me, and you 'mong'st tlie 

Accuse me of chasing" the bauble of fame ; 
Dear madam, I hope you were really in jest, 

When thinking me guilty of changing my name. 

What object, in Heaven's name, had you in view, 

To call me so plainly, *^ a wonderful lyre ? '' 
I'm really surpiised at a lady like you. 
For doubting my name to be Shandy Maguive. 
That noble old name down the ages has run, 
Beciueathed by the father to honor the son ; 
1 peer through the gloom of the years, and I trace 
A noble, a princely, a chivalrous race, 
Their swords from their sheathes ever ready to 

When fighting for justice and scorning the law ; 
The fat of the land they would always procure. 
And pass it around through the lean of the pooi' ; 
But, madam, alas, Avhat a change from the past ; 
The sky of the noble Maguires is o'ercast 
With ominous clouds, this degenerate time, 
When one of the family figures in rhyme. 
Toi'mented by you, and some others whose game 
Is telling the public I don't know my name ; 
Yoiu' questions were asked me so often before, 
They gi'ieved my poor heai't till it bUxl at the core. 


I've many times ran to the mirror, to stare, 
And see if I really and truly stood there ; 
Now madam, I'll furnish you proof from a dame. 

Who'll quickly convince you her son is no lyre. 
And neither afraid nor ashamed of the name. 

That many suspect isn't Shandy Mag-uire. 

^^Dear mother"— I always address her as ''dear," 
"What is it my son ?" she replied with a laug-li— 

"Oh, something- surprising, I'll sing in your eai-. 
And mother, don't think I am tipping xou 

Now madam, I'm skillfully versed in the art 
Of working my way to an old woman's heart. 
With young- ones, alas ! there's a difference there, 
I might just as well whistle jigs to a l)ear. 
As make a young woman believe what I say, 
When talking of love in a neighborly way. 
A certain young lady, for five years at least, 
I'm asking to let me go talk to the priest. 
Her only replies are ''be patient and cool. 
Don't bother me. Shandy, you act like a fool." 
I sometimes believe she is heartless and cold, 
Perhaps I'll succeed when the darling grows old. 

B ut back to^my subject : ' 'Dear mother, my mind 
Is sorely distracted, no peace can I find : 


I'm bothered, tormented, derided in scorn, 
I wish in my heart I had never been born." 
A moment I paused, to recover my breath. 
My mother, she seem'd in the stupor of death. 
She knew every word I expressed was the truth, 
I never was caught telUng- hes in my youth ; 
Whenever I chanced of an evening- to roam. 
She'd ask in the morning, the time 1 came home, 
I'd tell her the truth, she would sa^^ she Avas sure 
I didn't make much of a fuss at the door ; 
I didn't indeed ; she'd be snoring asleep. 
As in through a window I'd cautiously creep, 
M^^ boots in my pockets, to guard against noise. 
When having a game of '^ Ould Sledge " with the 

I slept with my brother, an urchin called Mick, 
And he was the rooster could tumble and kick. 
His feet at an angle of ninety degrees 
Would tly in a tangent away from his knees ; 
He'd hurl me out of the bed, in his might. 
To dream on the floor all the rest of the night. 
I dare not complain, as that bo}^ was no fool, 
Altho' he ne'er saw the inside of a school. 
He'd rifle my pockets of Killikinnick, 
He'd smoke m^^ old pipe till his stomach grew 

He'd make me divide all the pennies I'd win, 


To keep him from telling* the way I got in. 
Ag-ain I am off in what seems but a dream, 

A dear, happy dream of my juvenile years ; 
Now madam, I'm back to yourself and my theme ; 

Spun out till the close amid fast falling- tears. 

"Dear mother, come gaze on me, straight in the 

And answer my questions, don't think me in 

Please give me a candid and truthful reply. 

For Heaven's sake tell me if I am your son ? 
Are you my old mother ? be sure you are right. 
Does Shandy Maguire stand before you to-night ? 
Or is it some other spalpeen in his place. 
Who's bringing the family name to disgrace ? 
Sometimes in the South I'm advancing a claim. 
And beating" the bo^^s on the strength of m3^ name, 
Again, in the West, in a round-house I'm seen. 
Soliciting alms in a manner that's mean. 
Right here, at my home I find little relief, 
The story flies round, I'm a pilfering- thief ; 
Such rumors are really injurious, because 
The Lord only knows where the villains will 

pause ; 
I wouldn't at all be surprised if I'd hear 
The sheriff was playing- with hemp at my ear, 


And sending- me off from the troubles of life 
For running- away with another man's wife. 
Or some such a mean, inexcusable crime, 
Bad luck to the day I first jingled a rhyme ; 
Since then I can date many ills, for I swear, 
I'm troubled just now with far more than my 

*0h, what's in a name ?' said a moonshiny youth. 
Whose course of true love wasn't steered among 

I really can't tell about his, but in truth. 
Dear mother, I think there's the devil in ours." 

Like a sprig- of sixteen, the old girl arose. 

Her knitting unconsciously fell from her hand, 
Her spectacles dropped from her eyes to her nose, 

And there in amazement before me did stand. 
''Poor boy," were the words she expressed, "what 

a loon ; 
You're always deranged at the full of the moon." 
'' There are two of us so," I replied ; then her eye 

Suggested a hint from her reach to retire. 
My very next chance, I'll embrace it and try 

To prove to 3^ou, madam, I'm Shandy Maguire. 



Sad and dismal is the tale, 

Which I'll relate to you, 
About the schooner Persian, 

Her officers and crew. 
Who sank beneath the stormy deep, 

To rise in life no more ; 
Where winds with desolation sweep. 

Lake Huron's rock-bound shore. 

They left Chicago on their lee. 

Their singing- did resound ; 
All hearts were full of joyous glee. 

As homeward they Avere bound ; 
They little thought the monster. Death, 

Was lurking in the deep, 
And they, so full of life and hope. 

Should in the waters sleep. 

In mystery their doom is sealed. 

They did collide some say. 
And that is all will be revealed 

Until the judgment day ; 
When the angel takes his stand. 

To 'wake the waters blue. 
And summon forth,by heaven's command. 

The ill-starr'd Persian's crew. 



No mother's hand was there to press 

The brow's distracting pain ; 
No gentle wife, with kind caress, 

To soothe the aching brain ; 
No lover there, no sister nigh, 

Nor little ones to weep ; 
In wat'ry graves henceforth they'll He, 

Beneath the stormy deep. 

Her gallant captain is no more, 

He fills a seaman's grave ; 
Beneath the deep, off Huron's shore, 

Where wind-tossed waters rave ; 
Unknown the spot, and hid from view 

His manly, lifeless form ; 
And stilled in death the tar so true. 

Who weathered many a storm. 

Daniel Sullivan, her mate, 

A tar as bold and brave, 
As ever was compelled by fate, 

To fill a sailor's grave ; 
He will be weeped for as a friend, 

Alas ! his days are o'er. 
He met a sad, untimely end , 

Near Huron's rock-bound shore. 


Oh, Dan, your many friends will mourn 

That fate did on you frown ; 
We'll look in vain for j^our return, 

To your adopted town ; 
We'll miss the love-glance of your eye, 

Your hand we'll press no more, 
For stilled in death, old friend, you lie 

Near Huron's rock-bound shore. 

Her sailors' names we did not know. 

Excepting- one or two ; 
Down in the deep they all did go, 

They were a luckless crew. 
Oh, not a man escaped to land . 

To clear the mystery o'er. 
Until they drift, by heaven's command. 

In lifeless form ashore. 

Around Presque-Isle, the sea-birds scream 

In mournful notes along ; 
They're chaunting forth the requiem, 

The dismal funeral song ; 
They skim along the w^aters blue. 

And then aloft they soar. 
In memor^^ of the Persian's crew, 

Near Huron's stormy shore, 



"Mobilian," all the dreamy past, 
In fond arra}^, each friendly face 
That 'round me in those days were cast 
Your lines recalled. I love to trace 
The scenes at eve where oft I've strayed ; 
The myrtle bower, the silent g'lade, 
The star g-emm'd sky of deepest blue ; 
The walk where lovers went to woo, 
The balmy waves of rich perfume. 
From orang-e g-roves where all was bloom ; 
The nig-hting-ale's sweet plaintive song. 
By zephyrs borne swift along. 
Until the atmosphere around 
Gave echo to the charming sound ; 
The bay, its shores, the grove, the hill. 
Are all enshrined in mem'ry still 
And stereotyped upon my heart. 

Your lines awoke the dreamy whole — 
They moved b}^ panoramic art 

Through silent mansions of my soul. 

When groping through the gloom of years, 
When toiling- on in g-rief and pain, 

With scarcel}^ time to chase the tears 
That dim the eye and flood the brain, 

We seldom backward turn to view 


Those scenes that wear a roseate hue ; 
Scenes, with a retrospective eye, 
We trace, amid those dnys gone by, 
Where, heart entwined in heart, the twain 
Have Hved, and feared not future pain. 
Until the parting- moment drove 
Them far away from scenes of love. 
Your lines awoke a plaintive thrill 
That haunts the halls of meni'ry still. 
And I, my friend, to-nig-ht would fain 
Prolong- the melancholy strain, 
But ruder scenes of toil and strife 

Command me hence. '' Mobilian " dear. 
Where'er my lot be cast in life, 

I'll always keep your precepts near. 


Oswego, N. Y.— Tenth Anniversary, 1878. 

Old mother, a decade of years have sped on 
Since I, a poor waif, weather-beat by the storm. 

Approached you to take the proud title of "son," 
And muster myself in your ranks of reform.' 

At annual feasting I've always been here. 

To read you a song- and partake of your cheer ; 

To-night by the laws of both custom and love, 


I come, as of yore, my affection to prove ; 
And till but one drop of my life-tide remains — 
Till it stops at my heart and cong-eals in my veins, 
In joy, or in sorrow, in mirth, or despair, 
In tempest, or sunshine, foul weather or fair. 
The years shall still find me as onward they glide, 
In person or spirit rig-ht here at your side ; 
I speak from experience, my words hear their 

Through Avaves of temptation I've passed and 
proved true, 
I've yielded obedience both early and late 

To all the wise rules promulgated by you. 

So much for myself, now, my noble, old dear, 
I'll on with my task without further delaj^ ; 
Please gi'ant me a moment or two at your ear. 

To talk of atfairs in a family way. 
Bethink you the time when you first settled down 
And made your abode in this tax-i'idden town. 
With looks of suspicion youi' coming was chilled, 
But .soon our old homestead grew gloriously 

filled ; 
III here came the husbands when led by their 

And pledged to live sober the rest of their lives. 
So times sped along and oui' numbers increased, 


And guest followed g'uest to partake of the feast, 
With song, and with chorus, in mirth and good 

We drifted aw^ay from rum, whiske}^ and beer. 
We sat here for hours meditating on rules ; 

Lawmakers were scarce in our midst, hut a few 
Spruce, dignified Solomons,fresh from the schools. 

Supposed they could act as it pleased them to do. 

But, mother, acushla ! we loved you too well. 
We sprang to ouv posts and we shortened their 

We made a short job of each long-talking swell, 
By shaking a small grain of salt on their tales. 

Temptation crept in and dissensions grew rife. 

They threatened, alas ! to deprive you of life ; 

But, darling ! you live, you survived ev'ry shock. 

We soon drove the black-sheep away from tlie 

To those who were honest and truly sincere. 
We always rewarded their efforts in here ; 
And honored them well, as our records will show, 
With every good gift in our power to bestow. 
To those who proved traitors and fell by the way, 
Alas ! who can tell where they're scattered to- 
day ? 
Some lie in their graves and some live to complain. 


And curse their misfortune for drinking again. 

Many more, and I'm sure that their numbers 
are scores, 

The}" sought an excuse to escape through our 

You saved them, and then they denied 3"ou sup- 

They scamper'd away to some other resort. 

Like birds when full-fledged, they deserted the 

And they sought other scenes, well, perhaps the\" 

done best. 
You've more, your young grandsons, who think 

they are w^ise, 
They wish you to look more refined in their eyes ; 
They scoff at their father's good counsels, and say 
Their granny they'll deck out in fashion's array, 
The^^'ll ^'re-organize you," whatever that means, 
I see by the droll-looking glance of your e^^e, 
You'll never elope with those gents in their teens. 
Who'd quickly desert you and leave you to die. 

Dear mother, now banish all troublesome fears. 
Your first-born sons have been ever the same. 

They've guided you on o'er the pitfalls of years. 
And here by your side they will add to ^^our 

Let old Time roll along, let the 3'ears pass us by, 


We have streng-th to protect you, our foes we'll 

There is peace here and iDlenty for those who can 

The deadliest poison known under the sun. 
Moral suasion's the weapon we always employ, 
When we meet with the foe that our lives would 

destroy ; 
Prohibition may do for those slow moving- bands, 
Who invoke legislature to strengthen their 

Our success won 3^our smiles for a decade of years. 
We are robust and hearty to-night, my old 

And our features are wreathed with smiles, 'stead 

of tears, 
Which we'll wear evermore if we honor your 



You ask what I think of this Sabbath-day work. 

Or if there is cause to complain, 
When a man is denounced as a " good-for-naught 

For refusing to go Avith his train ? 
Your questions I'll answer as well as I can 


With all the respect that is due 
To one of your sex, from a kind-hearted man 
Who'd kneel and pa^^ homage to you. 

By jove ! I am truly in love with your pen ! 

Your Muse is defiantly bold, 
Such Avomen as you are worth more to their men, 

Than their weight of the dross we call gold. 
If you have a sister, unmarried, I swear 

I'd like the dear creature to woo ! 
There's nothing would brighten ni}^ prospects 
more fair 

Than a chance to claim kindred with 3^ou. 

With Sabbath-day work we're not troubled much 

We thank Mr. Phelps and Sam Sloan ; 
They give us those fifty-two days every year 

For sins of the week to atone. 
On Sabbath-day running that's all I can saj^ 

Because I'm not '^pinched b}^ the slioe," 
But, madam, hereafter on Sunday I'll pray 

For God to have pity on you. 

Now, madam, draw near, I will whisper a plan. 
Should the like ever happen again. 

You'll find it will aid and assist the "old man," 
If he don't want to go with the train. 


Don't have any fear for him losmg- his job, 

Providing- you'll faithfully do 
Your part, with a truly affectionate throb 

Of wifel}^ devotion in you. 

Those eng-ine despatchers are hard chaps to fool, 

They doubt every mournful tale. 
But madam, I'll give you a short, simple rule — 

I have never yet known it to fail : 
He then can respond to a call with a will. 

Providing" your part you will do 
The eng-ine despatcher will see he is ill, 

And back he will send him to you. 

Rub the poor fellow's tong-ue with a morsel of 

'Twill make it look sickly and white ; 
Hit the ' tickle-bone ' in his left elbow a knock ; 

His pulse any doctor will f rig-ht ; 
Then, tell him his mother-in-law g*ot a fall. 

And died from effects of it too. 
His features will blanch, and his look will appal 

The eng-ine despatcher, and you. 

Clasp hands across States, this acquaintance 
'Twixt you and myself must not end. 
And, madam, I tell you, devoid of all fun, 


I'm proud to be classed as your friend. 
Write on for the edification of those 

Who hazardous labor pursue, 
Pour in your hot shot to the camps of our foes, 

And soon they'll strike colors to you. 


"Where do the wicked sleep, sexton, come tell ? 
Where in your gioomy domain do they dwell ? 
Are they apart from the true and the just ? 
Here are their bones left to mingie in dust ? 
Point out their g-raves so I'll trample in scorn 
Over them, fiends from the hour they were born. 
Where are they hidden ? No name can I trace ; 
Only the just are interred in this place. 

Epitaphs telling- of brave men and true. 
Chiselled in marble, exposed to m^^ view ; 
Virtues abundant lie under the g-round. 
None but the uprig-ht of earth have I found. 
Surely you know where the wicked are laid. 
Here where you hid them, with mattock and 

spade ; 
Sexton, its bearing-s, pray have you forg-ot ? 
Where do the wicked slec^p ? point out the spot. 


Here inausoleums and obelisks tell 
Only where virtue and rig-hteousness dwell. 
Think you the wicked could peacefully I'est 
Here in such holiness, here 'inid the blest ? 
Monmnents g'randl3" on all sides arise, 
Telling- of pure angels called to the skies. 
Sexton, for decades you've wielded the hoe, 
Where do the wicked sleep? surely you know." 

"Thirty long- years have I wrought in this soil. 
Thousands were brought who required my toil ; 
Never came one but was deeply deplored, 
All had been called to reside with the Lord. 
Stranger, you know what the proverb has said : 
'Speak only good when you mention the dead.' 
Judging by words Avhich I heard at each bier, 
Only the just have I buried in here. 

"Seek you elsewhere, but I fear you will fail. 
Human decisions don't always prevail. 
Judgments erroneous from mankind depart. 
No one yet fathomed the depths of the heart. 
Springs there lie hidden, unknown, unexplored. 
Sealed to the vision of all but the Lord. 
He, from his throne with an allseeing- eye. 
Only can tell where the wicked ones lie," 



'' He's only a tramp/' said the papers, 

When telhng- the news of the clay, 
Of how a poor man was discovered. 

Just breathing* his last \)y the way. 
And that was the epitaph written ; 

And scarcely his spirit had fled. 
When many around him had g-athered, 

To morbidly gaze on the dead. 

Messieurs, let us pause and consider. 

Right here o'er his mortal remains ; 
A clue we, perchance, may discover, 

'Twill be a reward for our pains. 
From whence had he come, and bound whither, 

His birth-place, and name to denote ; 
What's this ? Ah ! Messieurs, 'tis a letter 

Concealed in the breast of his coat. 

We'll read : " My dear husband, this letter 

I write to you, hoping 'twill be 
Another strong link in love's fetter. 

Which binds you so closely to me ; 
My heart's dearest throbs of affection 

I send to 3^ou, darling, and pray 
Kind Heaven, for health and protection, 

And speedy success on your way." 


'' Our children are silently sleeping- ; 

I many times kiss them for you ; 
But Freddie is ailing- from weeping-, 

And baby is troublesome too. 
Yet cheerfully, darling-, I labor 

'Till you some employment secure, 
I'm helped by a kind-hearted neig-hbor. 

Who feels for the friendless and poor." 

" This morning- our Jennie ran sprig-htly, 

To kiss me, she whispered me : ^ma, 
Kind ang-els converse with me nig-htly. 

And give me g-ood tiding-s of pa.' 
God favor our little romancer 

With virtuous dreams all her life. 
Impatiently 'waiting- your answer. 

Your faithful, affectionate wife." 

Then silently stood each spectator ; 

Their eyes were o'erflowing- with tears ; 
Their lips— where the name of Creator, 

Had never been mentioned for years- 
Were now breathing- prayers full of pity 

To God, with an earnest desire 
For those in a far distant city, 

Deprived of a husband and sire, 


The tale can be told by that letter, 

Denied all employment at home, 
His wretched condition to better, 

Awa}^ o'er the land he did roam. 
Repidsed by continued denials, 

He' came to seek rest on this sod. 
At last there's an end to his trials, 

He rests with a merciful God ! 

And '^only a tramp " said the papers, 

When telling- the news of the day. 
Of how that poor man was discovered 

Just breathing" his last by the way ; 
That was the brief epitaph written ; 

But scarcely the letter was read 
Till many Samaritans gathered. 

To tenderly care for the dead. 


Dear Doctor, long I've thought 3^our Muse was 

With laurel wreathed 'round her honored head ; 
But when A^our poem, written for the Times, 
Came duly to me with its silvery chimes, 
I learned, then, there was no cause for weeping. 
Because the dame has not been dead, but sleeping. 


My worthy friend, your g-rand, heroic strain, 
Recalls the battle scenes of strife ag-ain, 
And by the genius of your gifted pen, 
You've lauded Hancock as the prince of men. 
And urged your hero to the foremost place, 
To make him win the Presidential race. 
Your honest purpose, I, for one, admire. 
But vain the labor of your gifted lyre ; 
While Tilden lives, and he aspires to run, 
You might as well fire off a " quaker " gun 
As broadsides such as you're dischargin^g here, 
For Doctor, Tilden has the race-course clear. 

My brother bard — I will such kinship claim — 
Altho' my Muse is yet unknown to fame. 
While yours may hover in sublimest flights, 
And soar around the grand Olympic heights. 
Mine, poor and lowly, in her native sphere 
Is recognized on some occasions here. 
I now suggest a short co-partnership, 
^Twixt you and I upon a rh^^ming trip ; 
We're sure to make a good, successful cruise. 
And either one must own the lucky Muse. 
Here are my plans : You must let Hancock slide. 
He cannot stem the fierce politic tide ; 
Then chorus up for Grant, I will for Tilden sing. 

They both are centers of each inner ring. 



If Grant should win we'll have the Empire sure, 
And then, old friend, you can repose secure. 
Sir Lawrence Reynolds 3^ou are sure to be, 
Besides, a hone you oft can throw to me. 
When plenty loads your noble tables down 
In days when he will wear the king-l}^ crown. 

If Tilden wins, then by the Lord, I swear, 
I'll give you, Doctor, sure, the lion's share ! 
I'll g-rind him rhymes out at a railroad pace, 
And labor hard until he wins the race ; 
Then dine and feast you like a brother true 
On dishes very seldom touched b^^ you. 
Provided, Doctor, you a cook do know. 
Who understands the making hash from crow. 


Come here, my old pen, till we ramble along. 
In the regions of fancy and the realms of song. 
Disentangle the rushing, tumultuous throng 

Of thought-mazes, wild in my brain. 
Now down in the ink, and my subject will be 
Whatever runs freely, beneath this g-reen tree ; 
If you prompt it in scorn or chorus in glee, 

I'll gladly prolong the refrain. ■ 


You've many times sutfered your share of abuse, 
Since plucked from the wing- of Peg- Flaherty's 

Because, my old friend, you have failed to produce 

A smile on the features of all . 
But, know 3^ou, the numerous critical pack, 
Who rush in their ire to encumber our track, 
May suffer the torture of thumbscrew or rack. 

If on them with vengeance you fall. 

True sportsmen have never perverted their aim 

By firing at fowl not regarded as g-ame. 

And you, my companion, must do just the same. 

Regardless of ignorant fools. 
Who seek to deride every stanza you sing ; 
And, like an assassin, their implements fling, 
To silence your strain with their envious sting ; 

We scorn all their laws and their rules. 
The Lord in His majesty wisely designed 
A wonderful mixture to make of mankind ; 
Oh, many he dwarfed both in person and mind. 

And spread them abroad o'er the earth. 
Each movement and gesture, each action and 

Resembles entirely their grandfather ape. 
You'd think from some jungle they made their 
escape — 

But Darwin accounts for their birth. 


What stench-pools of filthy corruption there lie 
Concealed in the hearts of the villains who try 
To seek after slander, and then magnify 

The few simple words w^hich they hear 
A hmidred fold more than the facts may disclose, 
And then, with their eyes hanging- down on each 

The}' '11 run Avith the stuff' to our deadliest foes. 

And pour their foul tales in each ear. 

Some women are first to discover a trail. 
And slander a sister, denounce her as frail ; 
Their bitter opinions the^-'ll add to the tale. 

Wherein if we only could see 
Such saints, when Temptation is hovering near. 
And pouring a passionate plea in each ear ; 
Methinks they w^ould merit their share of the 

The^^ throw 'round derisively free. 
But some are w^ell versed in the art to conceal 
The treacherous moments from virtue they steal. 
And those are the ones w^ho unscahbard the steel. 

To cut with Satanical ire 
The heart of a sister who falls hy the way. 
Forgetting, meanwhile, their dear selves are but 

But poor human nature, too prone to obey 

The beck of each tempting desire. 


'^ Old Pen ! we are often obliged to endure 
The taunts which are flung- at the friendless and 

By those who to-day are in sunshine secure, 

To-morrow the clouds may arise ; 
If so, we will note them on life's rugged road, 
To see how they'll carry adversity's load, 
Methinks they will quiver when pricked hy the 
• goad. 

And sigh after sunnier skies." 


Messieurs, 'tis a whimsical turn 

Of fancy that prompts me to write, 
But fires patrioticly burn 

Deep down in my bosom to-night ; 
And up from ni}^ heart comes a chorus — 

A clear, ringing, chorusing cheer. 
When thinking of pleasure before us 

This joyous Centennial year. 

In you, then, my honored committee, 
We place the full power to employ 

A plan to enliven our city 
Three days in the month of July. 


The programme already suggested 

Is excellent, sirs, in its way. 
And I, by the boys am requested, 

A word on the subject to say : 

We've twenty-one towns in this county, 

All peopled with patriots true, 
Wlio'll come to partake of our bounty 

And see what we city- folk do. 
From now until tlien they'll keep scanning 

Tlie papers and programmes, to see 
The plans the Committee are planning 

For this, our Centennial spree. 

Announce in large letters each wonder 

We have from all parts of the earth, 
Let cannon belch forth in loud thunder 

The dawn of the century's birth. 
Send broadsides of congratulations 

To neighboring States, and proclaim 
Abroad — to remotest of nations — 

Our love for great Washington's name. 

Don't brood o'er next charter election. 
Or questions therewith to arise, 

Because there's a little objection 
To some of us di'awing a prize. 


Besides, in political breakers 

The most skillful pilots we've found, 

When steering" amongst the slate-makers, 
We're run high and dry on the ground. 

Now sirs, get your programmes in order. 

And scatter them broadcast ; be sure 
Tliat plenty goes over the border, 

Our neighbor's from thence to secure. 
Expense do not spare advertising, 

The sights which await them in store. 
Historical, novel, surprising. 

When once they set foot on our shore. 

Let nothing abridge our enjoyment. 

Let pleasure, for once, have full sway, 
We'll all have some other employment, 

A century hence from to-day. 
The reservoirs south of our cit3'. 

With little expense can be made 
Thirst quenchers, my honored Committee, 

And flow through our streets lemonade. 

Such actions will pass down the ages. 
Surviving the shock of old Time ; 

Each name upon history's pages. 
Will loom in the future sublime. 


One hundred years hence, what a story 
Each sire will relate to his son, 

Of deeds full of honor and giory. 
Their noble old forefather's done ! 

Let each take his share of the labor, 

And not from his dut^^ refrain ; 
Who shirks off his part on his neig-hbor 

May hear from my hardship again. 
My pen, I can scarcely control it. 

It's favorite theme is abuse. 
Just because I unwittingly stole it 

Last week, from an Alderman's goose. 

Remember, we're first among nations 

Existing- to-day on the earth ; 
Now work, sirs, and make preparations 

To greet such a century's birth. 
This may be our last time together 

On such an occasion ; I fear 
Will meet with a spell of hot weather, 

Before next Centennial year ! 




Oh ! Madam Rebecca — Dear Madam, I mean — 
My heart is o'erfl owing- with rapturous pleasure 
Because in your loving- review I have seen 
The objects 1 sought for, my long- wished for 
I've courted old women through life by the score. 
Made love to the widows — a dozen or more ; 
I've sat with old maids till I thought I could spy 
A faint little " yes " in each man-hunting e3^e; 
I've sighed till I'm certain I saw in the air. 
Fading off from my lips the grim ghost of despair. 
As aw^kwardly sitting- I'd gnaw my caubeen. 
To shun the keen glance of a maid of sixteen. 
But, all in their turn refused me so cool. 
They caused me to think I was really a fool. 
I next in the Journal fished round for a mate. 
And, save a few nibbles, untouched lay the bait. 

Till you, ni}^ ow^n treasure and long sought for 

Sent deep in my heart the first spark of true love. 
It was smoke all the others created, but 3^ou 
Have set me in flame with your loving- review. 
I'd read it, then pause, and I'd read it again. 
At home, in the roundhouse, or running my train ; 
I'd gloat o'er the lines with an eager delig-ht, 


And, Madam, I swear — thoug-li the act you'll 
be scornin^^ — 
I took that review into bed t'other nig'ht 

To clasp it up close in my bosom till morning*. 

Next daw^n from a couch of sweet dreams I arose I 
Bewildered, delig'hted, like many another. 

I scarcely took time to get into my clothes, 
Till off on Love's pinions I flew to my mother. 

I showed her the Journal, I read your review, 

I told her a wife I discovered in you. 

I then, rich in fanc}', enlarged on your charms. 

And said I would soon have you clasped in my 

" Dear mother, I know she is comely and fair. 

In natural curls I fancy her hair ; 

Her eyes must be brig-ht — can out rival the stars, 

My schoolmaster said were called Venus and 
Mars ! 

Her lips, like the cherries on Fog-arty's tree ! 

So tempting- of yore to an urchin like me ; 

Her teeth, a whole mouthful of pearls, and white 

As new fallen snow in the sun's dawning light ; 

Her lips, I imagine, dear mother of mine, 

Look just like a lily when smothered in wine ? 

Her arms are just what I need when we're wed 

To serve me for pillows each night for my head. 

Her bust, and her fair incomparable mien, 


Will be a fit shrine for a husband's devotion ; 
And, mother, I'll cling- to that beautiful queen 
Till summoned to cross over Time's troubled 
ocean . 

'^Oh, Shandy! my first-born, beautiful one! 

I pity your case and I'll try and console you ; 
For proving- through life a good, dutiful son, 
I'll not let this Madam Rebecca, cajole you. 
'Tis plain to be seen you're bewitched, I can trace 
The spell of the siren o'erclouding 3-our face. 
You love-stricken fool, v^hat a picture you draw 
To gain my consent for a daughter-in-law. 
Wherein, like myself, she is wrinkled and gray. 
One eye artificial, her bones in decay ; 
Her curls clipped off from some poor girl's head ; 
Or may be her hair is a carroty red ; 
Her teeth are not pearls, but bones, far between. 
Like milestones, with colorless lips for a screen ; 
Her bust and her waist are both padded and filled; 
Besides, like yourself, at a rhyme she is skilled. 
In the April number she struck up a tune. 
Like the ba^^ of a dog at a mid-winter moon, 
I'll read you this extract, your passion 'twill kill ; 
A sample she ground in her doggerel mill : — 
'' Then 'tis wheeze and cough and chow chow. 
Now puff and blow and pow pow. 
Back a jerk, forward a jump. 


Couple to and then a bump, 
A turn of the wheels, a scuff and clatter, 
A shriek of the whistle, quadrupeds scatter. 
The train moves forward, patter, patter." 
My son, she put that on the point of the dart. 
That cupid let drive at your bachelor heart. 
'Tis a sweet little song, can you g-ive it an air. 
And rattle it off on the strings of your lyre ? 
Troth, Shandy, you'll both make a musical pair, 
If e'er she'll be Madam Rebecca Mag-uire ! 

Oh madam ! 'Tis plain to be seen the old dame 

Will never permit both our life-tides to mingle ; 
But, dearest! I swear by m^^ love's glowing flame. 

If you but consent I'll no longer live single. 
I'll act disobediently once in my life, 
'Tis I — not my mother — who's seeking a wife. 
And, mind you, m^^ idolized, musical dame, 
'Tis just as you say about changing my name. 
If Shandy don't suit you then Hand^^ will do ; 
Most anything, darling ! that's pleasing to you. 
Because I'm determined together we'll run. 

I don't care a pipe full of F. G. tobacco. 
For all my old mother just preached to her son. 

Providing you're satisfied. Madam Rebecca. 



Dear Paddy, friend and brother, 

And companion of my youth, 
Alas ! you're now a widower, 

I pity you in truth. 
A wave of kind compassion 

Is sweeping' o'r my soul 
When thinking-, darling- Padd^^ 

Of the grief j^ou can't control. 

Oh, yes, you'll weep in sadness 

For the " dear departed dove, 
Now soaring with the angels, 

'Round the throne of God above." 
By heaven ! there are thousands. 

Yes and tens of thousands, too, 
Who'd weep one eye in darkness. 

To be free to-night like 3^0 u ! 

I know your "darling Kittie," 

Was a true and faithful wife. 
More faithful than the husband 

She was wedded to in life. 
I also know, dear Paddy, 

(And I'll keep the fact in view) 
How the "darling dear departed," 

Once did " mitten " me for you. 


My boy I I will console you 

With an epiceclian strain, 
I am at it now, dear Paddy, 

I am tortured with the pain ! 
I'll send it to the Journal, 

With the letter I've received, 
So thirty thousand readers 

Can behold how much I'm grieved. 

*' In tears you will lament her, 

Till the g-racious King above, 
Will send for you to join her. 

In that home of peace and love !" 
Now, Paddy, let me tell you, 

(And to this yo\x will agree,) 
If you're received in Heaven, 

There's a chance for such as me." 

You must scourge 3^0 ur wicked body, 

Yes, and holy-stone your soul, 
Before you can pass muster. 

At the call of Heaven's roll ; 
It is hard to fool St. Peter, 

There's a duplex system there. 
And all must have a ticket, 

Who would climb the golden stair I 


Dear Padd,y, list a moment, 

Do not let your passion rise, 
When I tell you : not a blubber 

From 3^our heart ran to your eyes ; 
You may have squeezed a moisture. 

Like that monster of the Nile, 
We all have read of, Paddy, 

Called "the weeping- crocodile !" 

You mention in your letter 

How you'll live for Kittie's sake, 
A sad and lonely widower, 

JSTo other bride you'll take ; 
You'll woo no other woman. 

Till your life-tide ebbs away — 
" The divil thrust you, darlintV 

As my countrj^-women sa^^ 

I'll wag-er my existence. 

That before she's dead a year. 
You'll be promenading", Paddy, 

With your hat hung on your ear ; 
You'll be hunting up another. 

And a fox as old as you 
Must have a tender chicken. 

My old sport, you're forty- two ! 


In justice to dear Kittie, 

With a tender, heartfelt sig-h, 
For daj^s long- fled forever. 

In happ3^ times gone by, 
I'll pen you here an epitaph — 

She earned it well in life, 
And very few deserve it — 

"Here lies a faithful wife." 

Take one advice I give you : 

Keep mute as mute can be, 
Don't breathe a word in anger 

For singing- thus to thee. 
Because — and here I swear it — 

If you make the slightest noise, 
I'll sing your name and number 

Next month for all the boys. 

I hate to hear the clap-trap cry. 

Ascend at every grand ovation, 
Until it reaches to the sky. 

From every toady in the nation — 
How labor is a God-sent gift. 

And labor's sons we love as brothers, 
Who, by their manly toil and thrift. 

Do honor to their noble mothers. 


Messieurs, ye g-em-bespangied throng, 

Whose tongues are with the blarney coated, 
'Tis you who well may sing that song 

At banquets, where choice wine is noted ; 
Then spread your words wide o'er the land 

By telephones, and daily papers. 
That always lend a willing hand 

To eulogize 3^our sumptuous capers. 

When such harangues gush from your throats, 

We bless your kind fraternal feeling ; 
We never think you want our votes — 

Oh, no ! 3^ou'd scorn such double-dealing. 
Perhaps a thin-skinned fool like me 

Is envious of my wealthy neighbor ; 
But come. Messieurs, and soon we'll see 

The blessmgs found in "honest labor." 

I'll be a self-appointed guide. 

And lead yon to the various places ; 
We'll view the looks of high-born pride. 

On all who wear " proud labor's " traces. 
'Tis now the welcome hour of noon, 

And here's a shop with groups reclining ; 
Step in, and we'll discover soon. 

On what these sons of toil are dining. 



Come, view this dark, inferior bread ! 

Be patient, sirs ; what makes you flutter ? 
Is it because it weig-hs hke lead ? 

Or just because it lacks of butter ? 
All meats are rather scarce, you see ; 

Their butchers must have failed to slaug-hter. 
And here, in lieu of wines or tea. 

They have a pail of "sparkling- water." 

The meal is o'er ; we'll now prepare 

To hold a little conversation ; 
We'll make some spokesman tell the share. 

They get for building up this nation : 
" What news, my boys ; How fares the day ? 

Do Plenty's smiles come kindly beaming? 
Does hope shine forth with prosperous ray. 

Around your future pathway gleaming ? 

"Ah, yes ! " said one upon whose brow. 

The plow of care cut many a furrow ; 
" Bright Hope is smiling on us now, 

And means to do the same to-morrow ; 
Our food consists of smiles of Hope; 

Messieurs, 'tis good, substantial feeding ; 
It saves us from the hangman's rope. 

And checks our wounds from constant bleeding. 


" What rig-ht have we, poor slaves, to frown, 

To dare to think or dare to ponder 
On why you cut our wages down. 

Or why our heart-strings hurst asunder ? 
When hunger's pangs our vitals gnaw 

Or when half-clad in freezing weather, 
Why shouldn't we bless the glorious law 

That keeps our bodies and souls together ? 

We're made of Nature's coarsest clay ; 

Our wives and brats, why, keep them starving. 
Inferior brood — what right have they, 

To grumble while our fates are carving ? 
Then train your dogs with savage skill. 

To drive the pauper band in fury ; 
What matter if the}^ one should kill. 

While you can buy the judge and jury ? " 

The whistle's sound soon ceased the talk; 
With sullen and sarcastic bearing. 

Away they went in sullen walk. 

As motionless we stood there, staring. 

Messieurs, such movements mean a dire. 
Disastrous, fierce, internal friction. 

Which yet may burst in flames of fire, 
Beyond the power of laws' restriction. 



Come nnd nestle up closely, iny darling- ! 

Dearest girl with the long- raven hair. 
You can sing- in m^^ arms like a starling-, 

You delig'ht me when ever you're there. 
Let the w^orld wag- away with its bother. 

While your heart is up closely to mine ; 
We will w^hisper fond hopes to each other, 

For you know I am faithfully thine. 

Should the darkness of g-rief beat around us. 

And the clouds of misfortune arise. 
They will ne'er have the power, love, to wound us. 

They will soon disappear from our skies. 
When your lips touch my soul, as I press them, 

I will drink at the fountain my fill ! 
With a miserly g-reed I'll caress them, 

And I'll keep them as slaves to my will. 

When your arms circle round me, my treasure ! 

I will fanc3' the ang-els are near ; 
I'll enjoy ev'ry moment of pleasure. 

As I list to your pledg-es sincere. 
Then the years may unfold all their sorrows ; 

We have faith to surmount ev'ry ill, 
Which shall come with the g-loomy to-morrows. 

For our hearts shall beat truthfully still. 



One nig-ht, as in an easy chair 

I sat, perusing- mystic lore, 
I heard a footstep on the stair. 

Then came a knocking- at my door ; 
The hour was late, the taper's ray 

Scarce lit the dreary midnig-ht g-loom. 
Yet, at my call, without delay, 

A visitor stepped in the room. 

A man he was, and in his e^^e 

I marked a sad, peculiar g-race, 
As if brig-ht hope had passed him by. 

And soug-ht some other resting- place ; 
His years they numbered manhood's prime ; 

His hag-g-ard g-lance the story told — 
That care outstripped the march of Time, 

And made him prematurely old. 
I welcomed him and bade him rest. 

He made a common-place reply ; 
His voice touched spring-s within mj^ breast. 

Which long- 1 thoug-ht were parched and dry. 

'' M.J friend ! and can it really- be 

'Tis you, returned home at last. 
Who trod life's morning- road with me 

In days long- numbered with the past ? 


Speak out, why leave me in suspense ? 

Your voice is all I recog-nize, 
Long cla^^s gone by you went from hence, 

And wandered off 'neath stranger skies." 

I paused, and his extended hand 

I clasped with old-time, boyish glee ; 
I welcomed him to father-land. 

Who, 3^ears had roved o'er land and sea. 
In failing voice my guest began 

To tell his tale, 'mid falling tears, 
How he had strayed, as boy and man. 

Across the waste of many years. 
But from his lips the tale must fall ; 

Each plaintive note of pent-up grief 
My Muse will re-produce, that all 

May read a life-page sad, but brief. 

" A score of years have nearly ran 

Their varying-, changing course along, 
Since I, allured by hope, began 

To mingle with life's struggling throng. 
M.y father's home amongst the trees ; 

My mother's reverential air. 
As morning, noon, and night, her knees 

Would bend in pious, heart-felt prayer. 
For God to bless our humble cot, 


And all assembled 'round therein ; 
Alas ! too soon they were forg-ot, 

Exchang-ed for g-ilded ways of sin. 
Intoxicating draughts I sought, 

I quaffed, too deep, the midnight howl, 
I drained its dregs, hut never thought 

How soon I could pollute my soul. 
Being cast in Nature's stalwart mould, 

Such word as fear I ne'er have known. 
Too fiercel}^ brave, too bravely bold. 

Endowed with muscle, nerve and bone. 
I never paused to count the cost 

Of wild debauch on strength and mind ; 
Through many golden years I lost, 

I never cast a glance behind. 
One da}^ there came in mourning guise 

A little note, 'twas quickly read, 
'Mid choking- sobs and tear-dimm'd eyes, 

It told my noble sire was dead. 
To deeper depths I then went down ; 

I neared the verge of crime's abyss ; 
Saw firey e^^e-balled demons frown ; 

Heard shrieks and groans and serpents hiss. 
I fled, the fiends of hell gave chase. 

And on my heels pursued me fast. 

A mother's prayers soon Avon tlie race, 
And reformation came at last ! 


I started on life's road anew, 

I met a g'iii of witching* grace, 
With flowing hair of sunny hue. 

And brilhant mind, and handsome face. 
I loved as only man can love, 

I grew a hoy at heart again. 
And for her sake I fondly wove 

A future bright, untinged hy pain. 

I crowned her empress of my heart ; 

I knelt before her vestal shrine ; 
And e're we tore ourselves apart. 

She pledged eternal love with mine. 
I left her then to seek for fame 

Among the busy haunts of men. 
And for her sake to win a name. 

By aid of voice and guileless pen. 
She seemed the counterpart of me, 

Her very life, her hopes and fears. 
She said within my heart I'd see ; 

And note no change in future years. 
She then became my guiding star ; 

How oft my weary brain has sought 
To ward away the conflict's jar. 

By sweet companionship of thought. 
My pen was powerless to portray 

Upon the paper's ample page. 


My burning' love, each closing- clay ; 

The very moments seemed an age. 
That I have lingered in suspense, 

Until I'd get a fond reply ; 
'Twould cheer my heart, and soothe each sense. 

When reading with a gloating eye — 
But why prolong this painful theme. 

To scourge my lacerated mind ? 
'Twas all a curs'd delusive dream. 

That left its v-enomed stings behind. 
E'en now in memory she is near, 

The dirge of by -gone days to toll. 
My friend, forgive this falling- tear. 

She lured me with a perjured soul. 
My peace of mind's forever g'one, 

My heart for sweet contentment gropes ; 
Tliis was the cap-stone placed upon 

My pyramid of blighted hopes." 

His words grew incoherent — wild. 

He paused to gain a moment's rest. 
Again he raised his head and smiled. 

As hope had dawned within his breast. 
" But friend," he said, " our bo3iiood days 

Have many treasured gems in store. 
How oft m^^ retrospective gaze 

Grew bright, amid those scenes of yore. 


'Mid joyous scenes of early youth 

My memory often backward stole, 
To live ag-ain and seek for truth 

In dreamy mansions of the soul. 
But past, forever fare-you-well ! 

The present has no joy for me, 
The future, ah ! what tong-ae can tell 

The joy or g-rief which in it he ? 
I recognize the power divine. 

That wraps it up in mystic gloom. 
Yet, rays of hope around it shine, 

To hght my soul beyond the tomb." 


I cannot sing to-night, love. 

For I've an aching brow ; 
I feel atfection's blig-ht, love. 

Descending on me now. 
I've sipped the nectar sweet, love. 

Upon your lips that g-row ; 
But then, 'twas pleasure fleet, love. 

And now I'm sunk in woe. 

I cannot sing to-night, love. 
My voice has lost the charms 


Which g-ave you once delight, love, 

When circled in my arms. 
The sweet, delusive thrill, love, 

I felt when you were near 
Now feels an aching- chill, love. 

From pledges insincere. 

I cannot sing to-night, love. 

For all your witching snares. 
And features sparkling bright, love. 

Can't win those joyous airs 
Which oft I sang to you, love. 

In blissful moments past. 
When you have pledged me true, love, 

That joys like those would last. 

I cannot sing to-night, love, 

I'm passion-tossed with pain, 
I wish you'd leave my sight, love. 

And ease my 'wilder'd brain — 
But, stay, your features, deai'ly, 

Delude me as of yore. 
I'll dream you love sincerely. 

And sing" you one song- more ! 



I'm out of the shop, where I've been for repairs; 

Yes, out of the shop, where I've Hngerecl for 
years ; 
Once more in the cab, putting- on all the airs 

That ever were thought of by g-ay engineers. 
I've g-ot a rebuild of the "monkey-wrench" kind ; 

I've also been "daubed with a bucket of paint ;" 
And boys, ere the close of this year you shall find 

I can yet bring- a smile to the phiz of a saint. 

Where are the old friends whom I've mot with 
of yore ? 
Are all of them yet 'mid earth's turmoil and 
strife ? 
Or have they set brakes on eternity's shore. 
With trains safely brought up the grades of 
this life ? 

From north, boys, to south, from the west to the 
There were many heroes I'll miss from the 
Who've often sat down with myself at a feast. 
And drained a full glass to my meritless song. 

But, boys, I have tears for the graves of our dead ; 
I also have smiles which you plainly can trace. 
For each gallant lad who is fighting for bread. 


Upon an old mill, with a black smoky face ; 
Who'll stand in the cab — and with sinews of steel ; 

If dang-er's ahead be prepared for the shock — 
And then down the bank with his eng-ine he'll reel, 

His thi'ottle still clasping-, unflinching as rock. 

My mother once said : " Ai*i'ah, Shandy take 

And keep out of danger as long- as you can ; 
A hero may die, but, m^^ son, I declare 

A coward can live all his days like a man." 
I have always been known as a dutiful son ; 

I'll take her advice when there's danger 
around ; 
The heroes may take my whole share of such fun. 

For I shall step off on a soft spot of ground. 

Keep up your insurance, protect well your lives ; 
You can t tell the moment old Death with his 
Shall straggle around and bequeath to your wives 
A few thousand dollars to dry up their tears. 
Then, boys, how they'll dress in rich billows of 
black ! 
With veils drooping- down o'er each grief- 
stricken face ; 
When once they are sure that you cannot come 

Another will squander the dimes in your place. 


Old Time, if I only could hamper yoar flig'ht, 

Or scatter contentment for all in your wake, 
I'd make my old harp-string-s melodious to-nig'lit, 
And sing a sweet song for the sad hearts that 
M}^ mission would be 'mid the lowly and poor, 
Whose hunger-pinched faces are haggard and 
Who scarcely can keep the mad wolf from the 

That comes to devour the half starved ones 

Oh, Lord ! it is sad, what Ave daily behold, 

To see how the poor are derided on earth ; 
To see how they're tortured with hunger and cold, 
While struggling for life from the moment 
of birth, 
With heart-rending pains, and the manifold ills 
That crawl through our frames till we shiver 
and shake. 
With sickness and sorrow,convulsions,and chills. 
Which clasp us as tight as a Westinghouse 

By gracious ! a tear has just rolled from ni}- eyes ; 
Old Muse, ere next month you must alter your 
Soar up, and away, to those bright, sunny skies, 


That gleam far above our old 'Castle in Spain.' 
'Tis there we can warble in satire and mirth, 

And sing undisturbed as we both may desire ; 
There's not such another dear spot on this earth, 

For you, and your frolics, and Shandy Maguire. 


Oh, bury the past, my boys. 

Be sure 3^ou bury it deep ; 

If not it will surely rise. 

Like ghostly faces in sleep ; 

I mean the remorseful past. 

Which many men call "wild oats," 

If not it will hold you fast. 

With vengeful grip at your throats. 

When by the style of the years, 
Which leads down the vale of life. 
Perhaps it may save some tears, 
From many a faithful wife ; 
And don't be at all surprised. 
Unless you have hearts of stone. 
When keeping the past disguised. 
You'll save some tears in your own. 


You ma.y count your beads all clay, 

And mutter 3^our aves out, 

To keep the specters away, 

II" once the^^'re let roam about ; 

It is best to sink them deep 

Where all kindred criminals dwell, 

For a long' eternal sleep, 

If down you should dig- to hell. 

Then keep from their graves away. 
Through all of your future days. 
If not, when your head is gray, 
A furnace may round you blaze. 
This counsel given in rhyme 
Should on your memory last, 
Perhaps it may g-uard from crime, 
If down you bury the past. 


When the sun of life is shining. 
Ere a cloud begins to rise. 

To bedim the glorious lustre 
Of our bright meridian skies. 

Then, my boys, we must remember 
That his beams don't always staj^, 


To enliven up the evening- 

Of that fast approaching- day, 
"When the gloomy ills shall g-ather, 

And with penetrating force, 
Travel reckless through our bodies 

In a devastating- course ; 
Bearing- daily g-rim reminders, 

That our manhood's boasted prime, 
Is most surely drifting downward 

On the tidal- waves of time. 

When the turkey-tracks all g-ather 

On each florid looking- brow. 
Where old father Time sits gloating- 

'Mid the furrows of his plow ; 
When the silver threads are streaking- 

Throug-h redundant heads of hair. 
And the rheumatism driving- 

Us through torture and despair ; 
When the belladonna plasters 

Are prescribed to help each back. 
As we try to fool the doctor. 

Cursing driving-spring-s and track ; 
He will listen quite attentive. 

Should our friends be standing- near. 
But when once they leave our presence 

He will thunder in each ear : 



** If you wish to know 3^our ailment, 

I will tell 3^011 simple truth, 
You are now a holy martyr, 
. Caused by piety in youth ; 
And with bolus, pills, and plasters, 

I shall have to overhaul 
The lost motion of your body. 

Or a helpless wreck you'll fall." 
What a splendid consolation, 

As we suffer in our g-rief, 
To be told that from our ailments 

There's no permanent relief ! 

Now, my dinner-pail companions, 

Who mix gold dust in your tea. 
Every day, instead of sug-ar. 

So you'll spend your money free. 
Give attention to the future 

As you stroll throug-h summer flowers. 
Find a cozy place of shelter. 

From the winter's piercing showers ; 
Save up all the little trifles. 

Put extravagance to rout. 
Keep the crimson from your noses. 

And be careful of the g-out. 
For with present rates of wages. 

The most skeptic must agree, 


If you practice from my precepts 

You'll be millionaires, like me ; 
And each honest face will brig-hten 

With a buckled-crown-sheet smile, 
As you contemplate your savings. 

When they run you by the mile ! 
With what thoug-hts I sit and listen 

To those eloquent divines. 
Who drink deep of inspiration 

From the choicest brands of wines ! 
Which enable them to thunder 

Texts of Scripture in our ears. 
Telling- how the road to Heaven 

Has been built on human tears ; 
And the wrecks upon the sidings 

Are a vicious, sinful band 
Of garroters and marauders, 

Who'll ne'er see the Promised Land ! 
Oh ! 'tis then I feel rebellion 

Running madly through my veins. 
When I think how faint with hunger, 

And 'mid many aches and pains, 
How 'mid cold and desolation. 

Or 'mid summer's burning rays. 
We must struggle for existence 

Through this world's winding ways ; 
And when all the fight is over, 


As we fall upon the sod — 
When the summons is delivered 

To appear before our God — 
Then to find the tribulations 

Of the honest, ill-starred poor, 
Beside all the dire misfortunes 

We were called on to endure, 
Are a mass of bitter curses 

In this life to undergo. 
Ere our Maker shall condemn us 

Into everlasting* woe ; 
While our rich and reverend teachers. 

Blest Avith luxurj^ from birth, 
May take sleeping-cars to heaven 

When they're called away from earth I 

Ah I the strife may be unequal 

Here 'mid earthly hills and vales. 
But, beyond the tomb, dear reader. 

There's a cherub at the scales. 
Who will guard the balance fairly. 

And see justice done to those 
Who have fought their way courageous 

'Mid a multitude of foes ! 



Miss Fortune, indeed, is a whimsical dame, 

And a difficult damsel for mankind to woo ; 
She shuffles life's cards, then sits watching- the 

To see the stakes won by her favorite few. 
There's one of the winners I've watched for some 

Whose changes we'll trace in the following rhyme. 
In g-irlhood's young- years, unassuming- and plain, 
Till wealth with its joys nearly muddled her brain. 
And filled her with moonshiny notions so full. 
That g-ood common sense had forsaken her skull. 
Put beggars on horseback they'll canter to— well 
You know the old saying, 'tis somewhat pro- 

Old goosequill, to duty, and truthfully tell 
The reader a tale in satirical strain. 

Dear reader 'tis only a few years ago, 

A verdant young girl, named Julia Ann Brown, 
Drove a green-grocer cart, up and down, to and 

Selling- garden produce on the streets of the 

In a calico dress thrifty Judy was clad. 

Looking- lanky and lean, without bustle or pad, 

To the apings of fashion and dressmaker's art 


She was wholly unknown, perched aloft on her 

Selling" onions, tomatoes, beans, turnips, and 

Adding- dimes into dollars and hoarding the cash. 

The 3^ears sped along o'er this vender of greens. 

And Judy sped with them away from her teens. 

Prosperity smiled. The potato-bug swarm 

Dealt havoc around, but avoided her farm ; 

The harvest arrived, and a plentiful store 

Of potatoes gave Judy the ducats galore. 

Since then there's a chang-e in the life of Miss 

The upstart aspires to be belle of the town. 
I saw her last Sunday, she stood in the porch, 
Arranging* her dress to parade into church ; 
Then onward she went with a butter-milk smile. 
And a strut like a goose, up the carpeted aisle. 
She was late by design, so her style we could 

And the length of her train as she went to her 

Bending o'er in devotion devoutly she sat, 

While all in that vast congregation did stare 
At the beautiful plume that she wore in her hat. 
As she seemed to be wholly absorbed in her 


Ah, Jud}^ ! I wish I could teach you a truth, 

That art with its minions may labor in vain 
To g-ive to your features the freshness of youth, 
Or temper the public's cold glance of disdain, 
Too long- have 3'ou peddled your wares on the 

And bantered away with each housewife you'd 

To think we'd forget what you were when you 
In your father's old coat, buttoned up to keep 
Each cold chilly day on the top of a load 

Of potatoes and pumpkins you raised on the 


One night 1 sat in dreamy mood, 

Enwrapped in semi-gloom, 
No living soul did there intrude 

Within my cozy room. 
The embers in the little grate 

Were dying, one by one, 
As there I sat, to meditate 

On days long" passed and g-one. 


Each fading" spark my fancy wove, 

Until it did appear 
Like some okl friend, I once did love. 

With friendship most sincere ; 
In happy da3's, long* passed and g-one. 

Which I shall always prize. 
Before the clouds of care rolled on 

To dim those morning skies. 

I dreamed in semi-concious state, 

'Till drowsiness did creep ; 
And, as the last spark left the grate. 

My eyes were closed in sleep ; 
How long 1 slept I cannot tell. 

Perhaps an hour or more, 
'Till roused up by the midnight bell 

And knocking at the door. 

Perhaps some poor, belated man. 

Is seeking fire and food ; 
To let him in, I quickly ran. 

He'd share my solitude ; 
The bolt flew back, there stepped within 

That little, cozy place, 
A curious being", with a grin 

Upon his wrinkled face ! 


In speechless awe I mutelj^ gazed, 

Until the strang-er spoke ; 
'' Rouse up ! don't seem so much amazed, 

I came to have a smoke, 
And chat awhile with you, my lad ; 

For we've been friends for years ; 
You've known me when your heart was giad 

And also in your tears." 

'' My name is Time, you know me now ?" 

'' Ah, yes," I said in frig-ht, 
'' Your mark is here upon my brow. 

I thought of you to-niglit ; 
In fact, you're ever in my mind." 

He then replied : " Much crime 
In all your dreamy moods I find. 

Wherein you slaughter Time." 

" You drive along in reckless haste. 

You never stop to pause 
Upon the many hours you waste, 

You disregard my laws ; 
But, know you, I will win the race, 

Although your strides are fleet ; 
Effectively I will efface 

The earth-marks of your feet. 


Like many more, you think youH^e g'ot 

A lease of endless joy ; 
I called such foolish thoug-hts to blot 

From out your brain, my boy. 
You'll find the years will roll along- 

With steady, noiseless tread, 
And lay their cygnet mark upon 

Your visionary head. 

I've traveled from creation's birth, 

Adown the countless years. 
Which swiftly flew across the earth ; 

I've witnessed human tears. 
Enough to make an ocean, vast 

As space between the polls ; 
And noticed untold wrecks drift past 

Of lost, despairing souls. 

"For youth my measured pace is slow, 

Their blood in surging tides 
Keep bounding, with resistless flow. 

To urge their headlong strides. 
Age supplicates me to delay ; 

My speed exhausts his breath. 
And when he falls 'longside the way, 

He's gathered in by Death." 


"Yourself is not so anxious now 

To see the seasons fly 
As when hrig-ht curls o'er your brow 

Half hid each dancing- eye. 
You've sobered down, and love the fire, 

Besides, an easy chair, 
And peevishly, in churlish ire. 

You wrangle much with Care." 

"Behold that puff of smoke ascend. 

And now it disappears ; 
'Tis fleet as human life, my friend. 

And prototypes the years ; 
They come, they go, and puny man, 

With all his boasted skill. 
Has but a lease of briefest span. 

His mission here to fill. 

"Don't think — like other hair-brained fools. 

In every age and clime — 
You can defy my golden rules. 

And steal a march on Time. 
I'll be a victor o'er the graves 

Of all the human race. 
And I'll conceal, 'neath murkj^ waves. 

Their earthly resting place." 


He ceased, and vanished from my sight, 

Just as the streaks of day 
Were penetrating- through the night. 

With tints of morning's gray. 
In sadness I reflected on 

The many things he said, 
Before I threw myself upon 

My uninviting bed. 


T'other night I had a vision, 

And it filled me with surprise. 
Sure I dreamt I was transported 

Far away beyond the skies. 
Till, just outside Heaven's portals, 

I was placed with tender care, 
And I knocked and sought admission 

Into blissful mansions there. 

Soon the gates Avere slowly opened 
By a sanctimonious chap. 

Who demanded what I wanted 
In my greasy clothes and cap. 


I explained and g'ently told him 

That I " read ray title clear " 
Down on earth among- the snow-drifts, 

As a half starved eng-ineer. 

**Come rig'ht in, my worthy brother," 

Said St. Peter, "I am sure 
That I've never punched a ticket 

Since I've stood upon this door, 
Half so worthy of admission 

As this one you bring- to hand, 
From the snow-drifts and poor steamers 

Of that northern Yankee land." 

I was dazzled with the splendor 

I beheld on every side ! 
I was placed within a chariot. 

And was g-iven quite a ride 
'Round among- some lucky ang-els. 

Who for twenty years in mirth. 
Have been residents of Heaven, 

Since I missed them from the earth. 

Oh ! I recog-nized old timers. 
Who blasphemed in days g-one by, 

When they were detained for orders, 
Or on sidings had to lie ; 


And I asked the saintly Peter 

How the3^ g-ot in Paradise. 
He replied: ^^ B^^ running- scrap-piles 

With the flanges full of ice." 

" Are there any kid-gloved-g*entry 

Here on Canaan's happy shore ; 
Such as ten-per-cent-reducers, 

Of the panic days of 3^ore ? " 
Then his scowl looked liked the Heavens 

When tornados fiercely blow, 
As he shook his saintl^^ noddle, 

And just pointed down below ! 

'' Are there any applications 

For admission through your gates. 
From among some gay conductors. 

Who have charge of local freights ? " 
Said the Saint : '^ The^^ come here begging, 

But I take a loaded club 
And I knock them down to blazes, 

Where they're caught by Beelzebub." 

Sure he made me so delighted, 

That I asked him in a joke. 
If he'd switch aside the chariot. 

Till we'd have a social smoke. 


Oh ! he answered me quite gayly, 
And his smile was most serene : 

" Yes, I'd thank you kindly Shandy, 
For a whiff from your dudeen." 

There we sat and smoked together. 
Like a jolly pair of boys. 
" 'Tis the first time," said his Saintship, 
" That I've tasted Heaven's joys ; 
Your old pipe is so delicious 
That it kind o' roils my head." 
" Smoke it slowly, then, my bouchal. 
And may Heaven be your bed. 

*^ Are there many dead -head tickets 

Here presented at the g-ate ? " 
" Yes, my boy ; I've counted millions. 
But 1 quickly seal their fate ; 
They come up and try to pass me. 

Just because their dying- day 
Is employed donating treasure 
Which they cannot bring away." 

'^ Are there any railroad supers 

'Round about us to be seen ? " 
" They are like hen's teeth," said Peter, 
a Yery few^ and far between." 


" Where are all those train clespatchers 
Who could pull so many cars ? " 

" They are down below my hearty, 

With their noses throug-h the bars." 

" Can you tell me if you ever 
Saw the patentee come in, 
Of the famous Mack injector ? " 
Sure the Saint beg"an to grin. 
" Yes, my boy ; he's quite convenient 
To the place we're sitting- here. 
And his pass read : ^ Benefactor 
To the railroad engineer ! ' " 

" Do you ever have directors 

From a road that pays in scrip ? " 

'' No, indeed, I don't," said Peter, 
" They all take a downward trip ! " 

^^ Well, from roads of heavy traffic, 
Where they pay us by the mile ? " 

*' Do you take me for a booby ? " . 
Said his Saintship, with a smile. 

*^ Oh, be gor ! I don't, 3'Our honor. 
Though I never went to school, 
I can tell by looking at 3^ou 
That you'i-e far from being a fool ; 


Yet, I tlioug-lit I'd ask a question, 

As I know of two now dead, 
Whom I swear coukl beat the devik" 
'' They're still with him ! " Peter said. 

" I suppose you're bother 'd hourly. 
By poor suffering- millionaires. 
Who must do some honest labor 
Climbing- up the golden stairs ? " 
'' No, I never have a caller. 

For old Charon with his tricks. 
Locks them up in summer villas. 
Right across the river Styx." 

"Are there any politicians 

Scattered here among the stars ? " 
" Nary one ! " said honest Peter, 

" We could never stand their jars." 
" I suppose you're full of preachers, 

Who have taught us how to pray ? " 
" You're mistaken," he responded, 
" There are thousands drove away." 

" There's a spring of living waters. 
At whose Christianizing fount 
Flows a gospel universal. 
Named : ' The Sermon on the Mount.' 



Those not preaching- it find reg-ions 
Where there's not a flake of snow ; 

And I pledge my saintly honor, 
There the hypocrites must go." 

When the smoking made him drowsy 

I commit a fatal sin ; 
Heaven's keys I pilfered from him, 

Till I'd let poor spirits in. 
At my slightest touch the wickets 

Widely opened in the sky. 
Holy Moses ! wiiat a racket ! 

As the ladies passed me by. 

Soon ten thousand peals of thunder 

O'er the heavens flercel}^ roared ! 
And St. Peter ran terrific. 

Armed with a flaming sword ; 
He drove back the fair invaders. 

And I crouched in mortal fear. 
As the weapon gleamed above me, 

While he shouted in my ear : 

" Oh, you unrepentent rascal ! 

Since the earth was launched in space, 
'Tis the first time woman's prattle 
E'er assailed this sacred place? " 


Then the flaming- sword descended ; 

As I jumped to dodg-e the stroke, 
In a letharg-y bewildered, 

From the vision I awoke. 


Thank God, the forty days of Lent, 
That He to punish us has sent. 

Are quickly rolling- on. 
And ere these lines are told to drink 
Their modest draught of printer's ink, 

Once more shall Lent be g-one. 

For many weeks, with hungry moans, 
I've masticated myriad bones 

Of every kind of fish ; 
I've cut, and slashed, and hacked and chewed 
Through all the schools of scaly food 

That penitent could wish. 

The bones are piercing through my skin, 
Alas ! I feel a dorsal fin 

Protruding 'neath my vest ! 
Their gills, and scales, and slimy eyes. 
Like ghosts around my bed arise, 

To break my needed rest. 


My throttle arm's growing" weak, 
The lever I can scarcely take 

A hold of like a man. 
The track is rough, I roll around. 
Until I swear at every bound, 

As lusty as I can. 

A solid dish of pork and beans, 
Or bacon, fried in juicy greens. 

Would make m^^ eye-balls roll ; 
I think 'twould drive away more sin. 
Than all I prayed since Lent came in ; 

I do, upon my soul ! 

Oh ! for a steak cut from a hog. 
Or off a cow, or yonder dog. 

Ah, yes, or from a cat, 
A horse, a mule, a goat, an ass — 
I swear, this moment by the mass 

I'd masticate a rat ! 

The church forbids, and I must starve, 
A piece of meat I dare not carve, 

Or I incur her bans ; 
Gaunt hunger has a deadly gripe 
Unless on suction, like a snipe, 

I feed, and foil her plans, 


The Bible says to fast and pray, 

'Twas thus my pastor preached one daj^ 

My pastor tells no fibs. 
Poor man ! he looks as though he takes 
His penance out in sirloin steaks, 

While I pick codfish ribs. 

I know the g-ood man loves me well, 
Far better than my pen can tell. 

For he has told me so. 
He said to fast ; if not, my crimes. 
Together with my railing rhymes. 

Would land me down below. 

Since then at church I'm always found, 
I very seldom glance around, 

Except some saint comes in. 
Whose features wear a dainty smile, 
Parading up the middle aisle. 

To purge herself from sin. 

Those saints I find wear seal-skin sacques, 
With ermine trimm'd well down their backs, 

And hats of gorgeous plumes ; 
I likewise note they're always late, 
And strut along with peacock gait 

To pews where fashion blooms. 


I wonder if they feed on flsh, 
Or on a more ethereal dish 

Of sig-hs and saintly g-roans ? 
Perhaps to buy their gaudy silk 
They starve themselves on mush and milk 

Or caudled codfish bones. 

My creed requires much penitence, 
For every simple, slight offense 

Committed in the flesh ; 
Dear knows, the man who pulls a train 
In heat and cold, in shine and rain, 

May scorn the church's lash. 

I like a sermon short and sweet. 
But not a theologic treat, 

Be^^ond my simple reach ; 
I also love the fervent zeal 
An honest man is sure to feel 

Who'll iDractice what he'll preach. 

I like to sit and criticise 

The man who'll preach translators' lies. 

With sactimonious ire ; 
Who tells us that beyond the grave 
Our sinful souls must always lave 

In seas of liquid fire. 


When Gabriel's trump shall wake the dead, 
I know that those who toiled for bread 

Need have no cause to fear ; 
I truly think our Lord on hig-h 
Will g-ive us rest beyond the sky 

For what we suffered here. 


The seaman's song- is blithe and free, 
He leaves the "Goodwins" on his lee. 
His ship is trim, her sails expand 
With g-entle breezes from the land. 
All hands on deck the yards do square, 
To waft her throug-h the waves and air. 
Now, all is clear, the harbor passed. 
And bending- o'er each lofty mast ; 
The studding-sails are quickly spread, 
And in the chains one heaves the lead. 

The channel's depths to sound ; 
The pilot hears his answers shrill. 
Which forth he sends with rig-ht good will. 
The chorus of his shipmates tell 
That all on board are going well, 

And they are homeward bound. 


For two long- years on ocean wide 
They've battled with the winds and tide. 
They've sailed along its liquid blue, 
From frozen Greenland to Peru. 
Been buffeted in Arctic seas, 
And bronzed by many a tropic breeze. 
Exposed to g-ales and hot simoons, 
And wafted onward by monsoons. 
In Bay of Biscay lost a spar. 
Besides their most courag-eous tar. 
Fought pirates on the Spanish Main, 
Till all were captured, drowned, or slain. 
The stars and stripes at mast-head high 
Oft floated 'neath a foreign sky ; 
And weary pilg-rims paused to see 
Their country's flag- still flying free ; 
Her ships well manned, both staunch and true. 
And fit to cleave the waters blue. 
From out a distant port her bow 
Is pointed to the west- ward now, 
And songs aloft resound. 

The pilot takes his leave when she 
Is many leagues upon the sea. 
Her course is set, the watch remains 
On deck to view the steadj^ strains 
Upon each yard, each boom, each rope. 


Their hearts exult with joyous hope, 
For they are homeward bound. 

A little while and they'll behold 
Their native land its shores unfold, 
To bless the sight of those who viewed 
Old ocean's face in solitude ; 
Or seen the mig-hty billows rise 
In madd'ning- leap at angry skies ; 
Like liquid Alps, their crests of spray 
Picked up and swirl' d in flakes awa}^ 
A little while and kindred dear 
Will greet them with a love sincere. 
The Yankee girls will take in tow 
Their noble ship with glad heave, ho ! 
The steersman as he leaves the wheel. 
Responds in words his messmates feel. 

When his relief comes round : 
"Her course is west, Jack, keep her full. 
Make every stitch of canvas pull. 
Ball off the knots with willing hand, 
Until the look-out spies the land. 

For we are homeward bound." 

And now the water's em'rald sheen 

Is changing to a darker green. 

The land birds perch upon the stays ; 


And drift-wood floats from out the baj^s. 
The coasters cross their wake and tell 
That all on board are doing- well. 
The decks are holy-stoned with care ; 
And men are swung- in upper air, 
To make all ready for the coast, 
Where seamen fear the danger most. 
Suspense upon their features creep, 
And very few on board can sleep — 
For know you, landsmen, nearing home. 
When over leagues of sea you roam, 
There is a fear which steals within 
The lightest heart, that loves its kin — 
That some dear form 3^ou may not sp3^. 
From whom you went with tear-dimm'd eye ; 
Some hearth may have a vacant chair, 
Since off you sailed from loved ones there ; 

Perhaps beneath a mound. 
Your father or your mother true 
May sleep, whose parting breath, for you 
Was sent to God to guard 3^ou well, 
With love far more than tongue can tell, 

And wished you homeward bound. 

But see ! The ensign's at the peak, 
A passing ship they're going to speak. 
Ha ! ha ! Their longitude is rig-ht, 


And soon they'll have the beach in sig'ht. 
The frenzied g'lances of the crew 
Can't penetrate the hazy hue 
Which settles on the ocean's breast, 
Until the sun g-lides down the west, 
And sends bright beams athwart the sky 
Through vapors dense that on it lie. 
Eight bells are tolled. The watch is called. 
The ground-gear now is overhauled ; 
The anchors catted on the rail, — 
But, hark ! what means that joyous hail ? 
"Land ho ! " the look-out wildly cries, 
"Land ho ! " the second mate replies. 
The captain with his glass now goes 
Aloft to see its shape disclose, 
He sings his orders quick and clear. 
And tells the wheelsman how to steer, 
For Sandy Hook is drawing near. 
And soon they'll be with kindred dear. 

On well remember'd ground. 
They drive away all frenzied fear. 
Care from their bosoms disappear ; 
They dash him on his ghostly bier. 
Without a pang, without a tear ; 
Suspense gives way to jo}^ sincere. 

For they are homeward bound. 


Familiar objects on the shore 
Are pointed out, by those once more, 
Who viewed them weaiy months before, 
When seaward their staunch f rig'ate bore ; 
Whose keel plowed nobly on her course, 
And triumphed o'er the billow's force ; 
Until she now rides safe and sound. 
With anchors down in holding- ground. 
At last the voyag-e is complete, 
And terra firma 'neath their feet. 
The salutation : "All is well," 
The fears of those on board dispel. 

Each loving- friend is found. 
In fond embrace they're warmly clasped. 
And many hands are stoutly g-rasped. 

To greet the homeward bound. 


You're now upon a foreign shore. 
In lands beyond Atlantic's roar, 

'Mid objects European. 
Perhaps, as here I sit and sing. 
You're hob-a-nobbing with a king. 

Or waltzing with his queen. 


Where'er you are I'll safely bet, 
Columbia's shore you'll ne'er forget — 

The land which g-ave you birth. 
You'll find she stands the first of all 
The nations, whether g-reat or small, 

To-day upon the earth. 

You are a man whose liberal mind 
Is honest, broad, and not confined 

Within contracted bounds ; 
You'll note, when moving on your tour. 
The gulf dividing rich and poor, 

On Europe's slavish grounds. 

You'll find those titled things they call 
Lords, dukes and earls, creatures all 

Of very common clay ; 
Who think they have .a perfect right 
To trample o'er, by force of might, 

God's poor who block their way. 

Perhaps upon yourself they'll sneer. 
Or on your native land, so dear 

To every honest heart ; 
If so, they'll find your free-born soul 
Will fly beyond 3^our calm control. 

Revengeful, ere you part. 


Where'er in courts of wealth or fame 
You'll chance to meet a titled clame, 

Compare her with your wife ; 
More graceful lines you'll plainly trace 
Upon her noble, handsome face, 

Than elsewhere during* life. 

Her features are the truest chart 
That ever yet indexed a heart, 

Where Virtue's treasures reign ; 
Her social smile, her stately mien. 
Will envied be by many a queen. 

O'er Europe's broad domain. 

I haven't either time or space 
Within this book, or I would trace 

Some sights along your route ; 
Of cities numbered with the dead ; 
Of fields where ghostly warriors tread. 

Which I have read about. 

Tread lightly on green Erin's sod, 
'Tis nurtured with the martyr's blood, 

Through centuries of wrong ; 
On every hill, on every plain. 
On rivers rolling to the main, 

Her life's tide flows along. 


Her sons aspire to make her free, 
Tliey will not bend a slavish knee, 

In this enlig-htened ag-e. 
They've strug-g-led long- with little hope ; 
The headman's axe, the hangman's rope. 

Disgrace her history's page. 

On England's old, historic soil. 
You'll find reward for all your toil, 

Amid her wealth and fame. 
You'll see the splendor, pomp and glare. 
Of all that mighty nation there. 

Around her laureled name. 

When Scotland's skies are o'er your head. 
Oh, think upon the mighty dead 

Who sleep within her womb ! 
Move gently o'er the sacred ground 
Where pilgrims walk in reverence round 

Famed Bobbie Burns' tomb. 

Your piercing, keen, observing glance. 
Shall note luxurious sights in France, 

And flash with joy in Spain. 
Italian sights are truly grand. 
Where art and nature, hand in hand, 

Parade in gorgeous train. 


In German States find out the cause 
Why they enact such stringent laws 

Against our Yankee pork ; 
Our juicy hams, well fried in eggs, 
Would cure old Bismarck's gouty legs, 

If cooked a la New York. 

In Russia keep a sharp look out 
For victims of a t3^rant's knout ; 

If not you'll feel a jar. 
Such princely looking men as you. 
Beneath her flag are very few ; 

They'll take you for the Czar. 

Too long I've spun this tedious rhyme. 
Or I would rove through ever}^ clime 

'Neath Europe's azure dome 
With you, who know if ladies' smiles 
Possess one-half the witching wiles 

Of melting maids at home. 

I love you, " Cad," your heart is warm ; 
E'en foes admire your manly form 

And independent mind ; 
Oh, how I love the sterling ring 
Your voice contains, as forth j^ou spring, 

On cliques of every kind ! 


Your wealth is not the miser's hoard, 
You never keep your riches stored, 

Secure with locks and keys ; 
You'll fling- it from your open hand, 
Amongst the poor in every land 

Beyond our Yankee seas. 

We sadly miss your genial face 
From every dear, accustomed place 

It used to be of yore ; 
And may the months speed quickly by. 
Until your welcome form we'll spy 

Upon our trains once more. 

When westward bound, with favoring gales. 
Some swift Cunarder spreads her sails 

To bring your party back ; 
I hope she'll cleave her liquid way. 
Triumphant o'er old ocean's spray. 

Upon the starboard tack. 

And when the gang-'plank's shoved ashore, 
To land you 'mong-st your friends once more 

Upon Manhattan's strand ; 
I hope you'll And the brightest gem 
Of all the nation's diadem 

Your own dear native land. 




" What is there to admire in me ?" 
A Juno said in tones serenely, 

" Come tell me everything- you see. " 
She uttered with a precept queenly. 

" I see the counterpart of one 

I think as bright as mid-day sun ; 

Whose cheeks are blooming as the rose, 

Which in some tropic garden grows ; 

Whose eyes are brighter than the stars 

Called Venus, Mercury, or Mars ; 

Whose breath is sweet as morning dew. 

Or spicy zephyrs of Peru ; 

Whose hands are slender, small, and soft. 

Who smiles like angels up aloft ; 

Who glides as graceful as the swan. 

Her every attitude and motion 
In you combine, then handsome one. 

That's why I tender my devotion. 

If I were only fanc}^ free. 

And met you on life's early morning. 
My loving heart would sing in glee, 

And win you 'spite of all your scorning ; 
I'd tune my harp to simple lays. 
Both night and day I'd sing your praise, 


I'd not be conquered by despair, 
Faint heart ne'er won a lady fair. 
I'd never hesitate or falter, 
Until I had you at the altar ; 
And then adown the tide of life, 

Its hand in hand we'd g-o tog-ether, 
When sailing- off the rocks of strife, 

We'd float as buoj^ant as a feather. 

My worthy friend, why do you ask? 

Why put me to this pleasant task ? 
Yet, if I had time and leisure, 
I'd answer more with g-reatest pleasure ; 
I'd tell you every reason why 
You're fairest 'neath this Aug-ust sky. 
Your mirror will reflect to you 

When next before its face you stand 
A queenly shape, to Nature true 

As any from her skillful hand. 


How I love to sit and ponder 
On the happy days of yore. 

When the wine of life raced freely 
From an unexhausted store ; 


When we battered Care's old castle 

With a hearty f usilade 
Of sweet song's and merry laug-hter, 

'Till a breach was in it made. 

How the mind must be surrounded 

With a guilty coat of mail, 
That will not look back with pleasure 

To some youthful sunlit vale ; 
Where was raised the joyous chorus 

Of bare-footed boys at play. 
As we danced amid the heather 

On a sunny summer's day. 

Through the mist}^ clouds of vision 

Hovering o'er maturer years, 
I can see the winding river. 

Till my eyes o'erflow with tears ; 
I can view those happy frolics, 

And the mountain clad in green, 
And the sweep of blooming heather 

Where the lambkins played between. 

O'er the river's cr^^stal waters 
Like a sea-fowl we could swim ; 

We disdained the timid cowards 
Who sat shiv'ring- on its brim ; 


O'er the mountain lay the world — 

The horizon of our hopes — 
And we burned with rash impatience 

Till we'd pass its grassy slopes. 

We have passed them, drifting- onward, 

Drifting downward with the years ! 
Drifting o'er life's troubled ocean, 

With our freight of hopes and fears ! 
Sometimes tossed on mountain billows, 

Sometimes on calm waters bore. 
Yet, we're drifting — ever onward — 

To the undiscovered shore ! 

There are islands in the ocean. 

Where we sometimes step on land. 
To enjoy a few brief moments, 

With a transient, stranger band. 
But, alas ! the hours of pleasure 

Which we spare to sport as men. 
Make our bark but sail the faster 

When we step on board again. 

All the hopes of 3^outh have vanished, 

All its innocence has lied ; 
In the struggle for existence. 

We have selfishness instead. 


In the tussle and the jostle 

To secure some petty prize, 
We tramp down our weaker playmates 

Every morning- we arise. 

All the treasure of this world — 

And I write the honest truth — 
I would give, were 1 the owner. 

To renew my vanished youth ; 
To recall those dear companions. 

Who have wandered to and fro. 
From the play-g-round, near the mountain, 

Since the halcyon long- ag-o ! 


Respectfully Inscribed to the Mayor and Members of the 
Common Council. 

At sunrise every morning- here. 
From March 'till cold and bleak December, 

A sound familiar strikes the ear. 
Once heard you'll ever more remember. 

It comes from flocks of pig-s and geese. 
That have this corporation's freedom. 

To roam at large where e'er tliey please, 
Or where their chief marauders lead 'em. 


On choicest spots of tender green, 
Where care bestowed her longest hours, 

Those daring- outlaws may be seen. 
When g-org-ing- on rare plants and flowers. 

And when their appetites are staid, 
The day's diversion soon will follow ; 

In battle-lines quite soon arraj^ed. 
Extending over hill and hollow. 

The pig-s act umpires of the figiit. 
Or guard their rear from dogs and cattle 

That interfere, by powerful might, 
To end a long and tedious battle. 

This morning perched upon a tree 
I took a careful observation, 

For you. Messieurs, who guard this free. 
Indulgent, patient, corporation. 

Each flock is known by stride and squeal !f 
Here comes a clan called "Gosling Alleys." 

The fight begins, around they wheel 
To meet voracious Platner valleys. 

With fierce attack they charge the foe. 
On flying feet and wings extended ; 

At double-quick they onward go, 
'Tin all are in one dust-cloud blended ! 


Now comes a lean and lanky clan 
To re-inforce the Gosling- Alle^^s ; 

It looks as if a goose-Sedan 
Awaited all the Platner valleys. 

They enfilade from Duck Egg lane ; 
A brood of pigs behind them follow. 

Their ganders play a martial strain, 
And lead the way to Corky-Hollow. 

Again the contest is renewed. 
With beaks and wings, both fast and furious. 

The Gosling Alleys, unsubdued. 
Extend their lines with tactics curious. 

But hark ! What means that lusty shout ? 
Up Hoody-Town a band discourses ; 

It is the Green Road legion out. 
To join the Platner valley forces ! 

They wheel in line and open fire ; 
The Racker-Roads prepare to meet 'em ; 

The Hoody-Hills, with keen desire, 
And clad in Duck- Creek armor, g-reet 'em ; 

The Green Road geese on flanks and rear, 
Attack the half-starved Gosling Alleys — 

The field is won ! that lusty cheer 
Comes from victorious Platner valleys ! 


'Tis thus they fig-ht from day to day ; 
When shades of nig-ht around them gather, 

On streets and Avalks they'll march away, 
Without the loss of beak or feather. 

They'll forage on the choicest green 
We have in garden or on border ; 

A foul and filth}^ brood, unclean. 
Whose owners laugh at law and order. 


By the clear and placid waters 

Of Ontario at rest. 
Where the snowy wing's of commerce 

Gently g-lide upon its breast, 
I am sitting, meditating. 

Looking skyward to the moon, 
With the memories around me 

Of the fifth and sixth of June. 

Oh, ye gods ! who favor mortals 

In each laudable desire. 
Aid my efforts, I implore you. 

Send one flash of Nature's fire 


To illuminate the chambers 

Of my dull, insipid brain, 
Till I sing- to distant Brothers, 

In an easy, truthful strain. 

It was June, and 'mid its roses. 

We enjo3^ed two days in mirth, 
Our surroundings bloomed and blossomed ; 

'Twas a paradise on earth. 
Nature donned her grandest raiment ; 

In resplendent robes of g-reen ] 
She received our brawnj^ heroes. 

And entranced them with the scene. 

Syracuse clasped hands with Brothers 

Up at Rochester, and space 
Never yet contained a party 

Who displayed such royal grace ; 
'Twas a regal entertainment. 

Gotten up with greatest care. 
So 'twould leave a life's impression 

On the guests assembled there. 

And the frosts of many seasons 
Were dispelled amid the glow 

Of fraternal smiles of Avelcome, 
From the friends of long" ag-o ; 


There were hand-clasps and heart-g-reetmg-s, 

Such as only men display, 
Who exchange the post of duty 

For the pleasures of a day. 

Poets sing- of orange bowers, 

And of tropic songsters, too, 
And of spicy zephyrs blowing 

In the valleys of Peru ; 
But they never saw the glories 

Of our northern summer clime, 
When the Brotherhood assembles 

For a pleasurable time. 

Heaven carpeted our ball-room 

With a spread of velvet green, 
And the beaming smiles of beauty 

Gave enchantment to the scene. 
There we went through mazy dances 

Till the glorious god of day 
Rose with golden smiles to greet us, 

Ere we thought of going away. 

And our banquet hall outrivaled 

Fable scenes in fairy land. 
Where enchantment loads the tables 

By a magical command. 


It surpassed all former efforts 
Of the Brotherhood at large ; 

I appeal to Grand Chief Arthur, 
To sustain me in the charge. 

'Tis a green spot in the desert 

Of our ever active lives 
When we meet for recreation 

With our children and our wives ; 
When we lay aside the troubles 

Which beset our paths as men, 
And 'mid innocent amusements, 

We can feel as boys again. 


Sit 3^ou down at my side 

Till I whisper awhile ; 
Let your heart open wide, 

On your face put a smile ; 
For I see you are sad. 

There's a cloud on your brow. 
And your features are clad 

In dejection just now. 


All the moments you spend 

In g-loom, nursing' your pain, 
Hurries onward your end, 

They press down on the brain ; 
All the smiles you put on. 

Drive the wrinkles awa}^ — 
Let me see you Avear one, 

Change the night into day. 

Sure this life, love, is brief. 

And your charms soon will fade ; 
Do not ling'er in grief. 

Like a surly old maid ; 
But attend to the Avords 

Which I'll quickly impart. 
Like the warbling of birds. 

Let them steal to 3-our heart. 

There's a time to be sad, 

'Tis when I am not near. 
There's a time to be glad. 

When I'm with you, my dear; 
There's a time when you'll sigh, 

'Tis when wishing for me ; 
When I come let each eye 

Speak in welcoming- glee. 


Ah ! my love, now your face 

Is with pleasure aglow ; 
On your brow I can trace 

Where the love blossoms blow ; 
And your lips wear a tint 

Of carnation so brig-ht, 
Where my kisses I'll print 

In profusion to-night. 


James a. McCarthy, Killed on his Engine at Carlyon, 
July 2rTH, 1883. 

'Mid the terrible booming of thunder, 

Sharp lightning and delug-e of rain, 
Came the tidings of death and disaster 

To Carlyon 's ill-fated train ; 
Where the wind's sudden rise in its fury. 

Soon blew in a merciless gale. 
And sent flying along from the siding 

A car to spread death on the rail. 

'Twas a night when the bravest might falter 
With heartstricken fear and despair. 

For it seemed as if legions of demons. 
Were out and at war in the air ; 


But the tide of humanity flowing-, 
O'ercame every feeling- of fright, 

In the rescuing- party who labored 
So bravely that terrible nig-ht. 

'Twas a sig-ht that shall ne'er be forg-otten. 

While reason presides in the brain, 
To behold all the dead and the dying-, 

Who rode on that ill-fated train ; 
Heaven pity them all ! Here's one other. 

Whose equals on earth were but few ; 
He's my noble professional brother, 

Who proved what a brave man can do. 

All the newspapers called him a hero, 

Who bravely met death at his post ; 
Ah, yes ! he remained on his eng-ine. 

To liter'ly broil and to roast. 
Not a selfish thoug-ht entered his bosom. 

He stood on the foot-board resig-ned. 
With the lever reversed in the quadrant, 

To save the three hundred behind. 

His poor fireman was pulled out dismembered 
From under the wreck where it lay. 

And he, too, played the part of a hero ; 
In fragments they bore him away. 


They vvei^e there Kke true comrades tog-ether, 
Their Ufetides besprinkled the sod, 

And within a few hours of each other, 
Both spirits ascended to God. 

Hurry, Fame, with your brightest of laurels. 

To deck poor McCarthy's last bed ; 
He is gone beyond earthly assistance. 

And lies Avith the heroic dead ; 
He is one of the army of victims 

Whom duty requires every year 
To be foremost where danger lies thickest. 

And die like a brave engineer. 

Hear the multitudes wail as we bear him 

All covered with flowers to the grave ; 
Note the grief of his kiudred who'd tear him 

Away from the ranks of the brave ; 
See his Ave little, fatherless children. 

Who huddle up close at the bier ; 
Hear the sobs of his heart-broken widow. 

Who weeps for the dead engineer. 

He is now laid at rest, and forever. 
He sleeps his last sleep 'neath the sod ; 

All the wails of his loved ones shall never 
Recall his free spirit from God. 


When on duty he never did falter— 
Althoug-h he loved children and wife— 

But laid down his all on its altar, 
And, mind you, that all was his life. 

Oh ! I know g-lorious deeds are recorded 

Above with a merciful pen ; 
And I know that all those are rewarded 

Who act as the savers of men. 
When the archang-ePs trumpet g-ives warning-, 

To call up the heroic dead 
For review on eternity's morning, 

Brave '^ Jimmie " will march at the head. 

Pour out a goodly cup of cheer, 

And qualf its contents down ; 
ISTow out upon the sea we'll steer. 

Although the skies may frown. 
My bark is staunch, her hull and sails 

Were built for stormy tides ; 
Perhaps she'll meet destructive gales, 

Ere back to port she rides. 



Ha I ha ! the land is fading- fast, 

The cloud-rack sweeps the sky ; 
The harbor lig-hts are ciuickly past, 

The seas run mountains hig-h. 
My crew are of that mettle made. 

Who stand with bated breath ; 
All gallant tars, and not afraid 

To face the monster — death. 

The thunder peal vibrates o'erhead. 

The lightning flashes free ; 
No soundings with the deep-sea-lead 

On weather or on lee. 
The piping winds, like giants hoarse. 

Amid the cordage roar ! 
But still we steer our seaward course. 

Full many leag"ues from shore. 

This driving pace begins to tell. 

The goodly timbers creak. 
Across the decks roll ev'ry swell. 

And soon she'll spring a leak. 
Unless the larboard watch is called 

On deck to shorten sail ; 
Brave hearts ! they're up and unappalled, 

To fight the roaring gale ! 


The royals now are safely stowed, 

And our to'gallants too ; 
But, see ! from off the yard is blowed 

The bravest of my crew ; 
No human aid can save his life. 

He sinks beneath the wave. 
Where, undisturbed b}^ mortal strife, 

He'll fill a sailor's grave. 

The clouds begin to drift away. 

And on our weather-beam. 
The sun sends down a cheering- ray, 

Which on the waters gleam ; 
It tells us that all dangers o'er ; 

And calmly we may glide 
Across the placid seas once more. 

Upon old ocean wide. 


When the smoke wreaths ascend in a cloud 

round my nose. 
Is the time I enjoy a delicious repose ; 
And I bask in the smiles which my fancy creates, 
On this cool, balmy eve, when the wide open gates 


Of my fancy are flung", to permit me to stray 
Where I choose, till the wreaths have all faded 

away ; 
And tlvi whiffs, like the puffs of a clean-cut 

Circle 'round in the air till in distance they're lost. 

I 'ye been reading- the Journal and found as I read 
Intellectual treats from contributors spread 
O'er its pages, wheie Mind is the monarch that 

In its columns, endowed with his quota of brains. 
When we're roasting with heat or when freezing- 

with cold. 
It brings joy to our hearts every line we behold, 
From those kind and affectionate ladies, w^hose 

Are united Avith ours, and signed "■ engineer's 

When we leave them and bid them a tender good- 

How the tears trickle down from each ^^plug-- 
puUer's" eye. 

As we give them a sad and disconsolate kiss. 

Knowing well how the poor darling creatures 
we'll miss 

When we're off at the other far end of our route, 


Where we never were known to go strolling" 

But remain in our cabs making- pious complaints 
To our Maker and reading- the Lives of the Saints. 

Should we ever come back with a red hair or two 
On the sleeves of our coats and exposed to the 

Of our wives, who have long raven tresses, why, 

Heaven pity us all, we're unfortunate men ! 
Don't they know in their hearts how the smoke 
and the g-as 

Of our engines can color the paint-work and 
brass ? 

And, of course, 'tis tlie very same process which 

To the change in their own hair they fancied was 

I have never yet heard of the slightest reliance 
A woman would place on the wonders of science. 
She can talk with a truly intelligent mind 
O'er a wide range of topics, with learning- refined. 
But when once her keen eyes g-et the sight of a 

Which she thinks, in her foolishness, shouldn't be 
there ; 

Oh ! it don't matter much if the color be gray. 


All her learning- takes wings and the devil's to 

There are manj^ who think that this calling of 

Is a path where we stroll through the rarest of 

Where the lilies and roses and pansies regale 
All the bo3^s who go flying along o'er the rail. 
They'd he sadly mistaken if once at my side 
I could get them to stand for a fifty-mile ride ; 
How they'd tumble about like a colick}^ pig, 
Or a bull in a china shop dancing a jig. 

If our engines work smooth and we're running on 

We can nerve-strain relax and in harmony chime 
With the noble old steed that is flying along". 
As her nozzles play bass, while we warble a song; 
But the slightest derangement which g-rates on 

our ears 
Ends abruptly the song-s of the best engineers. 
For myself, at such times, I'd prefer in the Fall, 
To be driving old mules on the " raging canawl." 

Brother Everett, 3'Our hand ! How the years 

have sped o'er 
Since we clasped them together in greeting-before! 
You have given unmerited praise to my name, 


Such as only yourself could with modesty claim. 
In your *^Land that Lies Star ward" your Muse 

on her wing- 
Told us all how she quaffed of the Helicon spring*. 
May she ever he found soaring grandly along-, 
To enohle mankind with her Heaven-sent song. 

Now my pipeisexting-uished, the da^dig-ht is gone, 
And the brakes of my fancy are set, every one : 
There remain but a very few hours till I'll hear 
The rich brogue of the caller saluting- my ear. 
He's the boy who can knock every fanciful flig-ht 
Of my noddle up hig-her than Gilderoy's kite, 
As he grunts and he growls like the half-famished 

Of a wolf, in the g-ray of the dawn, at my door. 


To HON. Samuel Sloan, President Delaware, Lackawanna and 
Western Railroad. 

Your Honor : 'Tis presumption's self 
That urged me from my humble sphere. 

To take my old harp from the shelf, 
And sing this strain to catch your ear. 


When I perused the joyful news 

That thrilled throug-h ev'ry mmer's breast, 
I said : ^^ Sam Sloan will ne'er refuse 

My humble thanks among- the rest." 

Thank God the panic da^^s are past ! 

The ten-per-cent. cut-downs are o'er, 
And better times are here at last, 
■ To bless our patient hearts once more. 
Indeed it was a welcome sig-ht. 

To read the preface of m^^ song-, 
It told that dark misfortune's nig-ht, 

NoAV bring-s a brig-hter dawn along*. 

I know you have an honest heart. 

And all your boys here know the same ; 
We know you take a poor man's part. 

And think it neither crime nor shame. 
We meekly bowed to each decree. 

And g-ave it our obedient will, 
That came in panic troubles free. 

Performing- all our duties still. 

We watched j^ou stem the darkling- tide. 
With anxious eyes we scann'd the stocks. 

And cheered you as we saw you g-uide 
Your roads secure throug-h Wall Street rocks, 


Without the loss of spar or sail, 

The skillful pilot that you are, 
To weather each financial gale, 

Till Morris and Essex stood at par. 

No sooner is the conflict o'er, 

No sooner did good times heg-in, 
Than to each hardy miner's door 

You stole, surprising all within ; 
Their honest sounds of heartfelt prayer, 

Will be in heavenly mansions stored, 
To greet your sure arrival there. 

When called away to your reward. 

And now my task is nearly done, 

Back to oblivion's depths I'll fly, 
And there concealed I'll try to shun 

Your piercing, shrewd, official eye ; 
Yet, ere I go, my Muse prevails 

To have me say before we part : 
" However fortune tips the scales. 

You'll always have a human heart." 

Indeed there is no use at all, 
To please the rude, discordant jade, 

Because that fact is known to all 
Your employes of ev'ry grade ; 


And with your hardy mining" band, 
We'll yet be heard in loud acclaim, 

O'er hill and dale throug-hout the land. 
Invoking' blessings on your name. 


*'Handy Andy," since Sam Lover 

Gave the character to fame, 
Whom we all admire in fiction. 

And from whom you filched your name, 
Every subsequent aspirant 

Seems to blunder more and more 
Than the noted Hand}^ Andy 

Did, in Lover's days of yore. 

You have published me a liar. 

And have held me up to view, 
As a railer at St. Peter, 

And my pious pastor, too. 
But his Saintship knows I'm human, 

And will overlook a joke ; 
For like all light-hearted felloAVS, 

He enjoys a social smoke. 


And to think I'd jibe my pastor ! 

Oh, you sanctimonious rogue, 
How you morahze just like him. 

In a rich, melodious brog-ue ; 
Pointing" out the path to Heaven 

For poor penitents to climb ; 
While yourself may sin and slander 

In a sermonizing rhyme. 

If 3^ou sat with me on Sundaj^s, 

In a rear located pew. 
With the pulpit and the preacher. 

And the people in full view. 
Noting' those who come to worship. 

Clad in fashion's rich array. 
You would surely whisper, "Shandy, ' 

Very few come here to pray." 

Note that lad^^ dressed in satin. 

See how pleasing' she can smile ; 
How her gorgeous plumes are dancing. 

As she sweeps adown the aisle. 
Do you think her thoughts are upward 

Where the meek of heart reside ? 
If you do I'll differ with you. 

For I know she's full of pride. 


See the fashionable broadcloth 
Of that portly-looking- g-ent ; 

Whom I never knew to labor 
For an honest-earned cent. 

Do you think the good St. Peter 
Will throw Heaven's g-ates ajar 

To admit him, after taking- 
Poor men's dimes across his bar ? 

See the cushions made of velvet, 

Where they sit and take their ease, 
While we poor, less favored mortals, 

On rough boards must bend our knees. 
Hear how eloquent the preacher 

Thunders Scripture at the Jews ! 
As he smiles upon the Gentiles, 

In the velvet-cushioned pews. 

Oh, no, And.y ; I'm no railer. 

And I don't deny my creed ; 
But I criticise those preachers, 

Who on choicest fare ma^^ feed ; 
Who ignore the poor and lowly. 

While the rich may favors count. 
'T wasn't thus the Galilean 

Promulgated from the Mount. 


Have you ever ran an engine 

When the wintry winds did roar, 
When the snow, in avalanches, 

Piled against the furnace door ? 
When the two old pumps were frozen, 

And the works a mass of ice ? 
If you have, don't fear the preachers. 

For you're sure of Paradise. 

Have you ever felt the burning- 

Of the sun, in hot July, 
When the cab would suffocate you. 

And you really thought you'd die ? 
If you have, you need not worry 

Much on what the preachers tell. 
For, dear Andy, I assure you. 

It exceeds the heat of hell. 

Now, my bouchal, in conclusion, 

Let me whisper in your ear : 
^'In the great unknown hereafter. 

We'll be better off than here ; 
While some Scriptural expounders. 

Whom we very often meet. 
Will require the polar regions 

To allay their burning heat," 



You are all that my fancy can wish for, my dear ; 

You're a hrig-ht little g"oddess of beauty ; 
But a trifle too proud in your notions, I fear. 

And a slave to the strict line of duty. 
If you'd banish those prudish opinions you hold, 

And upon my devotion take pit}^. 
Sure I'd prize you far more than full coffers of 

And I'd worship your charms, dear Kittie. 

You are yet in your teens, so ami, my dear love. 

Or perhaps I'm a year or two older ; 
Let us sip of those sweets Heaven sent from above. 

Ere the years make our passions g-row colder ; 
We can nobl^^ defy all the trials of life. 

While our hearts are as buoyant as feather ; 
For with youth, health, and hope, and yourself 
for my wife. 

We will share joy and sorrow tog-ether. 

Let your lips meet with mine till our souls shall 

Do not frown at my loving advances ; 
But be human, and pledge 3^our affection to-night, 

Let my heart read its doom in your glances. 


Ah ! I see you respond to me, darling-, that smile 
Is a silent, thoug-h certain consent, dear. 

For it comes from your heart that's untrammeled 
by g-uile. 
Oh ! I hope you shall never repent, dear. 


Farewell, a long- farewell, old friend ! 

The time is drawing- near. 
When all our intercourse shall end ; 

I tell you, with a tear. 
Old Time, that drives with rapid pace 

O'er earthly hills and dales. 
Shall quickly hide your wrinkled face 

Beneath our snow-clad vales. 

And yet, before you do depart 

Into the g-reat unknown. 
To-night I'll ope to you my heart. 

As here we sit alone ; 
For you have been, in many ways, 

A true and faithful friend. 
Whom I'll revere, until my days 

Of^fleeting life shall end. 


The ver^^ moment of your birth 

I heralded with joy ; 
And peans rang- o'er all the earth, 

To g-reet the graceful hoy. 
You then were in your swaddling-clothes, 

A youth of i^romise fair, 
A messenger of love to those 

Who suffered grief and care. 

For plenty smiled all o'er the land, 

The wheels of traffic ran 
With steady speed, on every hand. 

To bless the toiling man ; 
The wolf of hunger, 'mongst the i)Oor, 

Relaxed his deadly hold ; 
The merchant felt his risk secure 

Accumulating g-old. 

My Brothers of the mystic ring". 

Whose countersign is B, 
Shall mourn you as a much-loved king. 

Dear Eighteen Eighty -three. 
Because throughout your reign we found 

Good friends with voice and pen, 
And, for the same, kind thanks resound 

From fifteen thousand men. 


From Manitoba's fruitful soil 

To tropical Brazil, 
We found reward for honest toil, 

And friends are with us still. 
From far Pacific's golden sands, 

Each man who leads a train, 
Extends cong'ratulating- hands 

To Brothers o'er in Maine. 

I fain would have the horoscope 

Of your successor read, 
But, ere his eyes on earth shall ope. 

You'll join the leg-ions dead. 
We'll mourn you with a doleful tear. 

To speed your parting- soul. 
And then to greet the 3^oung New Year, 

The joyous bells shall toll. 

Upon your patriarchal brow, 

I note a sombre cloud ; 
Poor friend ! your hours are numbered now. 

You'll soon be in your shroud. 
Perhaps amid a much-loved few, 

Who've reached the mystic shore, 

I'll hold communion yet with you. 

Where parting is no more. 



And if our worldly ways are there 

A social bowl we'll drain, 
Of nectar or some vinous rare 

And sparkling- as champag-ne. 
Amid the perfume g-ales that blow 

Round some celestial vine, 
We'll chat of scenes we loved below, 

In days of Auld Lang- Syne. 

Expounders of the Scriptures say 

Eternal joys await 
All those on earth who fast and pray, 

To reach the guarded g^ate, 
Where ransomed souls shall enter in 

To homes of endless love ; 
If so, I'll purge my soul of sin, 

So we shall meet above. 

At last the parting- hour has come, 

I'll grasp your palsied hand ; 
With arms reversed and muffled drum, 

Your predecessors stand ; 
They'll take you hence beyond the skies, 

I hear the tolling bell. 
As I repeat, with tearful eyes. 

Dear Eighty-three, farewell. 



Come, my love, with raven tresses, 

Here and sit beside me now ; 
Come and give me sweet caresses, 

While the ringlets from your brow 
I will brush with touches tender, 

'Till I see your face aglow. 
In the flush of joyous splendor, 

Like the happy long ago ! 

Ah ! the years we've left behind us 

Have been fraught with care and strife ; 
Yet they served to closely bind us 

On the rugged road of life ; 
For our hearts have never faltered, 

Nor our love diminished cold ; 
Though our features may have altered. 

And the years have made us old. 

We are drifting sure and steady 

To the great unknown beyond ; 
But when summoned we'll be ready, 

We'll resignedly respond. 
Dismal death can have no terrors 

For an angel such as you ; 
And your soul, devoid of errors. 

Shall have mine shown mercy too. 



Hear the bells as they ring pealing- out on the 

night ; 
From their clear, brazen throats issue sounds of 

delight ; 
Through the portals of time there's a stranger 

who comes, 
'Mid the blare of loud trumpets and beating of 

Let us give him a right royal welcome, and sing- 
Out hozannas to God, for this juvenile King. 
Let us all emphasize the old greeting sincere, 
And exclaim full of meaning : "A Happy New 

Year ! " 

'Tis a custom enjo3'ed in all civilized lands 

To go out making calls and take friends b^^ the 

At the birth of the year, 'mongstthe rich and the 

I have ordered m^^ chariot 'round to the door. 
Hear my Pegasus neigh ! He's impatient to fly ! 
I am mounted at last and away through the sk}^ ! 
At the speed I am going I'll rapidly near 
A few friends, Avhom I'll greet with a Happy New 


I see Cleveland beneath. Down, my Pegasus, 
down ! 


1 have g-ot a few friends to salute in this town. 
P. M. Arthur, 3^our hand ! Dash the clouds from 

your brow, 
For I'm not g-oing- back to my darlings just now. 
Till I pay my reg-ards. Here's your hearty good 

health ! 

May your coffers keep full to o'erflowing- with 
wealth — 

Do not mind the decanter,it makes me feel queer — 

Most sincerely I wish you a Happy New Year. 

T. S. Ing-raham's next. Here's his latch-string- 

I will enter. Good morning". I've had quite a ride. 
I am here with an honest intention to take 
Firm g-rasp of your hand for a friendly old shake. 
Please convey to J. H. S. my kindest reg-ards. 
And just say that '' Dead Beats " are not found 

among- bards. 
Ere I leave let me trumpet-tone into your ear : 
From my heart's depths I wish you a Happy New 


Now,my noble old steed,toyour mettle once more. 
Till we make a short call on a far distant shore. 
There are mountains below, if my longitude's 
rig-ht ; 

Yes, the Rockies are here, on this crag- I'll alig-ht, 
Till I find G. D. Folsom. A man who can sit 

262 SHAl^Dt^ MAGUIRE. 

In a car and clelig-lit us with learning and wit : 
Ah, he's found amid nature's sublimity here. 
Brother Folsom I wish 3^ou aHappylSTew Year. 

Oh ! I'd like to g-o farther ; but see how the sun 
Is outstripping my steed, that's enjoying the fun. 
Every place where we call he drinks down to the 

By the aid of his wings he now steadies his legs. 
How I'd love Californian wonders to see ! 
And the almond-eyed, rat-eating heathen Chinee ! 
But, my boys, though I cannot partake of your 

Take the will for the deed,and a Happy New Year. 

Now I'm off to the South, where I'dgladl}^ remain. 
For the flight of my steed is distracting my brain. 
How the cities appear and dissolve into space ! 
Here is Dixie below ; I will slacken my pace. 
And alight. O, my boys, I'm dehghted to say 
That there's joy in my heart to behold you to-day ! 
Please dilute that red liquid, pour lightly, I fear 
I've indulged rather freely. A Happy New Year. 

Bear me back to the East, while my senses remain, 
'Mid the joys of to-day there are echoes of pain. 
Brother Everett, the best of good wishes I bring 
To 3^our grief-stricken home, where old Death 
left a sting. 


1 expected to meet 3^ou at Buff'lo, but heard 
Of the speedy recall which our meeting- deferred. 
Now, my worthy old friend, whom I'll always 

May your grief be allayed by a Happy New Year. 

Up and off to the shores of Lake Erie to greet 
A few boys of Fifteen,ere ourrounds are complete. 
Here's a wide-open door, uninvited I'll call. 
What a joyful surprise ! Pleasant evening to all ! 
SeehowCallahansmiles ashepours outthewine— 
Brother Forestall, please put cold water in mine- 
Hank Glendenning, your health ! Let us drink 

with a cheer 
For the boys of Fifteen on this Happy New Year. 

'' Handy Andy," acushla ! I'll have to repent 

For my feasting to-day, and do fasting next Lent. 

You'll excuse me, I hope, I'm as " full as a tick." 

And I've thrown for awhile, all my cares to Old 

Please uncork a fresh bottle, it's contents we'll 

Fill our glasses once more full of fancy's cham- 
pagne ! 

'Tis the ^'stirrup cup," Andy, ere homeward I 

Which I drink as I wish you a Happy New Year. 


Now for home. It is time to be stretched on the 

There's the devil's tattoo drumming- round in my 

head ! 

If my steed wasn't jaded I'd ride through the sky 
Wishing- Happy New Year till the Fourth of July. 
As I entered my cot at Ontario's shore, 
Here's the brief salutation I g-ot at the door : 
" There's no need of me wishing- you pleasure, my 

For I see you've been havmig-a Happy New Year." 


(Presented by Mr. C. B. Benson.) 

You are welcome, g-ladl}^ welcome. 

And ni}^ heart is in a flame. 
As I g-rasp jou, meditating- 

On the land from whence you came. 
On that Island in the ocean. 

Where Atlantic fiercely roars, 
With a never-ceasing- fury. 

On its weather-beaten shores. 

What an eloquent description 

Of that Island in the sea, 
I have heard from him who broug-ht you 

From its verdant hills to me ! 


With a tourist's eye he noted 

How old Nature's lavish hand 
Spread the richest scenes of verdure 

In poor Paddy's native land. 

You're a gnarled looking- stranger, 

But 5^ou're welcome just the same ; 
And, ^^my kippeen of shelalah" 

You are not unknown to fame ; 
For at patterns, fairs and races, 

I have heard of you before. 
Where the ^'peelers" fled before you. 

Or lay sprawling in their gore. 

Where coercion acts are yearly 

Manufactured to enslave 
The aspiring thoughts of Paddy, 

If for freedom he should crave ; 
Where the right to carry arms 

For protection is denied, 
'Tis no wonder that Shelalahs 

Are so noted far and wide. 

You are now among the Yankees, 
Where a man who toils for bread. 

If he's sober, just and honest, 
Can erectl}^ hold his head. 


And be peer among" his neig-hbors, 
For no titled hordes have we 

To debase us worse than cattle, 
As the^^ do be^^ond the sea. 

So, my "splinter of shelalah," 

And my two blackthorn canes, 
You'll be kept amid my treasures, 

While a throb of life remains. 
For the sake of him who broug-ht you 

From old Ireland's rebel giades 
You are all sincerely welcome 

To my daily promenades. 

To Wm. B. Phelps, Oswego, N. Y. 

On a feverish nig-ht I unconsciously strayed 

Into one of my troublesome dreams. 
When I fancied I saw, in his g-rave clothes ar- 

Mj old friend, by the sun's setting* beams. 
As an earnest spectator I stood 'mid the crowd 

Of deep mourners, dejected and dreary. 
Where were chanted in accents of ang-uish aloud, 

The g-rave strains of the sad Miserere. 


Soon the churcliman arose, with a sa nctitied look, 

To bestow the last rites on the dead, 
And the service laid down for his g'uide in the 

He most fervent and feeling-ly read ; 
At its close he selected a text and essayed 

To mechanic'ly handle his theme ; 
'Twas the standard formula church parliaments 

And I murmured dissent in m^^ dream. 

'Twas " From ashes to ashes and dust unto dust, 
What the Lord g-ives he surelj^ will take ; 
In divine revelation we'll earnestly trust. 

And be faithful on earth for His sake. 
Now we'll tenderl3^ place the remains in the tomb, 

Till the arch-ang-el's trump from the sky — " 
"Stand ye back !" I exclaimed, as I sprang- from 
the gloom. 

With the tears rolling down from each eye. 

"Stand ye back, let me say a few words that are 
On your glib, orthodoxical chart ; 
Let me preach o'er the dead, on this grief-stricken 
In the elocxuent lore of the heart ; 
For I've known him and felt the kind g-rasp of his 


As it g-ave me a magnetic thrill, 
Like the touch of a holy seer's magical wand, 
And its pressure is lingering still. 

" There he lies with the life-tide congealed in his 
For his spirit has vanished away, 
And his heart that could throb for humanity's 
Is now cold in its casket of clay. 
I have known him to steal like a thief in the night, 

With good cheer loaded down, to some door. 
Where he'd quickly transform into thankful de- 

The complaints of the luckless and poor. 

He ne'er paused to inquire of what country or 

Was the man whom he took to his heart, 
But he hugged him up close with a miserly greed, 

Nevermore from its shrine to depart. 
Oh, he looked not to find geographical lines. 

He was deaf to sectarian rules. 
As he mingled with friends bej^ond narrow con- 

Of the bigoted, comical schools. 

He was human, and erred in those trivial things, 
To which men who are human incline ; 


Now, let all of you here who are faultless, spread 
And fl}^ off from this earth, you're divine ; 
Ah ! I see j^ou remain, which is proof that my 
Benefactor had virtues so hrig-ht. 
That have ransomed his soul, as it heavenward 
Into mansions of endless delig-ht. 

* ^Brilliant flashes of wit instantaneously ran 

Throug-h these lips that are sealed evermore ; 
Such a mind has been rarely bestowed upon man. 

Full of choice chronological lore. 
How his forefathers conquer 'd or gloriously died. 

As they fought for their country and right, 
In the da3^s when men's souls were most stren- 
uously tried. 

Gave my friend patriotic delight. 

^ ^Systematic and strict were his dealings with all. 

But his laws were with justice applied ; 
If ^ve erred and atoned he'd the balance let fall 

To the humane and merciful side. 
Ah ! he ruled us with kindness and treated us 

As his equals, and not as his slaves. 
We shall weep for him hourlj^, in anguish sincere, 

Till we follow him into our graves." 


As I ceased, came a wail of response from the 

A most heart-rending", ear-piercing- scream. 
It arose like the belching of thunder, aloud, 

And awakened me out of my dream. 
'Twas a glad transformation from grief to delight 

As the vision of death fled in gloom. 
To behold m^^ old friend looking hearty and bright 

Whom I fancied was laid in the tomb ! 


They sat by the camp-fire, their day's toil was 

The song" and the chorus went merrily round ; 

And yet an observer could plainly discover 

That they were all exiles whose songs did 
abound ; 

They sang in full chorus g-ran d anthems delig-hted , 
Their memories wander'd to scenes far away ; 

With hearts full of love their devotion they 
To Erin, their mother, those exiles so gay. 

They thought of the scenes Avhere in boyhood they 
The mountains, the meadows, the rivers, the 


The fields where for pleasure they often resorted, 
Were fondly remember'd in soul-stirring* strains ; 
Fond hope in each bosom was jo^^ously springing, 

Each face w^as aglow with remembrances 
As back o'er the ocean their fancies went winging 

To all their young frolicsome scenes of delight. 

All true to the flag- of Columbia, dearly 
They loved to behold it's bright folds in the 
breeze ; 
But there, in a bond of true brotherhood yearly. 

They sang of the old land far over the seas ; 
They pledged her their heart's deepest ties of affec- 
tion, ^ 
While life would remain they would faithfully 
They hoped ev'ry link in her chain of subjection 
Would soon from her limbs be knocked ott' and 
she free. 


When wintr^^ winds in fury beat 
The habitations of the poor, 

And stride along on nimble feet 
To many an unprotected door ; 


Oil, then, the suffering- ones vvitliin 

Have ag-onizing" ills to bear, 
As huddled round, in clothing thin, 

They drink the dreg's of dark despair 

Convenient to the poor man's shed 

A stately palace rises high ; 
Its smallest stone, if sold for bread, 

Would make the wolf of hunger fly. 
Its fountains flash in brilliant jets, 

From beams of massive chandeliers ; 
No wonder that its lord forgets 

The bitter wail of human tears. 

His lady fair can hourly ride 

In furs and robes of costly price ; 
And on the frozen streets may glide, 

In festive mirth, 'mid snow and ice. 
Her daj^s move on in joy serene. 

Her nights amid the ball-room's g-lare • 
She's paid the homage of a queen. 

By those who circle round her there. 

The splendor of her equipage 
Outrivals eastern chariots old ; 

Her prancing steeds are all the rage. 
Their trappings decked with virgin gold. 


Her lap-dog" has more tender care 
Than thousands of God's lowly poor ! 

'Tis fed upon such daint^^ fare 
As will its brutish tastes allure. 

Oh, if she'd only pause and think, 

How much distress her wealth could save 
Among'st the crowds that starving sink 

Down into many a nameless grave ; 
Perhaps upon life's tragic stage, 

A Christian part she'd of tener play ; 
The tears of grief she could assuage. 

And drive much discontent away. 

See yonder child, her feet are bare. 

Her half-clad body shakes Avith cold ; 
The snow flakes kiss her tangled hair, 

More golden than the purest gold. 
Alas ! she weeps for parents dead. 

She seeks from passers-by relief ; 
A penny or a crust of bread 

Would dull the pangs of childish grief. 

Poor waif upon life's stormy sea ! 

Too soon your ill-starr'd youth shall fade. 
There's no relief or s^^npathy 

From costly silks and rich brocade. 



In hearts like ours the echoes he, 
Which spring- to hfe in accents wild. 

Whene'er we hear the doleful cry 
Ascend from poor misfortune's child ! 

Down, pen ! more skillful hands than mine 

Must wrestle with man's g-rievous wrongs, 
And speak inspired from every line. 

Instead of rude, discordant songs. 
The task — it seems devoid of hope ; 

I fear the poor must drift in gloom. 
Until the skies in glory ope. 

To call us hence from out the tomb. 


My love is a blooming young maiden. 

Endowed with a frolicsome mind. 
Her eyes are witli witcheries laden, 

As ever 'mongst maidens you'll find. 
She's gentle, kind-hearted, and loving. 

And says she is faithful to me. 
I fear her affections go roving 

Too often in frolicsome o-lee. 


One eve in the twilig-lit I caug-ht her 

Up close m my fervid embrace, 
And there on my bosom I taught her 

The love of my heart in my face. 
She tore herself off and she started 

Away with the speed of the wind ; 
'Twas thus in the gloaming- we parted, 

And lonely I ling-er'd behind. 

The next time we met 1 demurely 

Sat listening- to lectures she gave — 
Her mother's eyes watched us securely— 

I promised to always behave ; 
Of course I surrender'd discreetly ; 

What better just then could I do ? 
Because I was shadow'd completely, 

Kig-ht there with her mother in view. 

The clock told the hour of leave-taking-. 

Young Flora strolled out in the porch. 
Her sides full of laughter were shaking-. 

And I like a deacon at church. 
Until we were clear of the prying 

Her mother directed along ; 
Ag-ain I embraced her, defying- 

The eyes that were watching for wrong. 


My kisses profusely were g-iven 

On lips luscious ripe to be pressed ; 
I there had a foretaste of Heaven, 

As I pretty Flora caressed. 
When off from the g'aze of her mother, 

She gave all her feeling's full play, 
And, ere with affection we'd smother. 

We tore ourselves slowly away. 


Tliere he sits with a smile on his black,smoky face, 

And a droll-looking glance in his eye. 
As he notes how the "pointer " keeps up in its 

As our noble old steed seems to fly. 
He's the happiest man to be found on the train, 

For I promised I'd write him a song, 
To the air of that musical, pious refrain : 

" And we'll Roll the Old Chariot along." 

Yes, I'll write him a rhyme ; 'tis the least I can do 

For a lad whom I really admire, 
And, besides, my dear reader, he's one of the few 

Who can closel^^ attend to his fire. 


He imag-ines he has a fine, musical ear, 
Thoug-Ii lie can't tell a march from a jig- ; 

And his voice, which he fancies melodiously clear, 
Has a trill like the gTunt of a pig. 

But aside from his musical talents, he knows 

He is gifted in ways I despise ; 
All the men on the trains are our deadliest foes, 

Just because he's the father of lies ; 
And many a time in the cab when we've found 

A full share of annoyance and grief, 
A train man or two we'd see prowling around. 

To berate the uncrucified thief. 

If it's tallow or waste we're in need of he'll seek 
Out the place where they hide their supplies. 

And will pilfer sufficient to last us a week. 
Right from under the baggage-man's eyes. 

There is scarcely a trip that we make but I'm 
For I never 3^et knew him to fail 

In selecting the tid-bits, all seasoned and carved. 

Which I carry for lunch in my pail. 

He shall soon change his seat right across to the 
Where the wrinkles shall furrow his brow, 


And the deep lines of thought shall be marked on 
his face, 
That looks beardless and boyish just now. 
All his monke3dsh tricks shall be broug-ht to a 
For when once he's promoted he'll find 
That he'll need all his thoughts for protection of 

Who are riding in coaches behind. 


Dear Friend : The time is opportune, 
This evening in delightful June, 
To spend a pleasant hour with you. 
Whom I admire in friendship true. 
The Moon is floating like a queen ; 
In azure skies she moves serene ; 
All nature is in silent mood, 
No sound upon my ears intrude. 
I upward turn my eager e^^es 
To penetrate the silent skies ; 
But, Jim, Alas ! my sluggish brain 
Can't comprehend the starry train 
That move along through upper air, 
Nor see the power that keeps them there. 


But this I know : ag-nostics may 
Proclaim their creed till dooms dread day, 
And yet, in spite of all they say, 
There is a being- who can sway 
This universe, and who can trace 
The track of all that move in s^^ace. 
Can guide them and direct them still, 
To move according to His will. 
What puny things w^e mortals he. 
Mere insects tossed upon life's sea. 
And yet, we often times incline 
To doubt there is a power divine. 
Sure all created things we view 
Proclaim a great Creator too. 
I'm of your faith and can agree 
Convinced by sights I daily see. 
Opposed to each contracted creed, 
Where conscience never can be freed 
From narrow bounds, from bigots' sneers. 
From hypocritic scoffs and jeers. 
Your faith is mine, 'tis grand and broad, 
* 'Through nature up to nature's God" 
We worship, with the silent heart. 
And eyes which see our God impart 
His mercies here to all mankind, 
With our full strength of heart and mind. 
A few more years at best will tell 


The whereabouts of Heaven and Hell ; 
If all we heard smce g-lorious youth 
From preachers' lips are words of truth, 
Or simpl^^ planned to make us feel 
The thrust of wiley churchmens' steel. 
I think the last, and Jim, I know, 
Like me you scoff eternal woe. 
My e3^es are loaded down with sleep, 
I'll into bed this instant creep, 
I'll sermonize no more to-night. 
But mail you this at morning-'s light. 


Read at Rochester, N. Y., before the Members of Division 
18, B. of L. E. 

To dedicate this splendid hall 

To friendship, and each m^^stic rite. 
Is why w^e've gathered, one and all. 

Who are assembled here to-night. 
The brave and fair are in accord. 

With smiles and cheers to speed you on. 
And 'round your sumptuous festive board 

You wear the laurels you have won. 


When man shall toil for fellow man 

To aid hmi in his hour of need, 
He fills the great Jehovah's plan, 

And proves a brother true, indeed ; 
'Tis such you've proved who in this hall 

Are circled round in modest mien, 
And we are honored by the call 

To join the members of Eighteen. 

At this baptismal font we see 

Paternal sponsors standing round. 
Who always will our guardians be 

While justice in our laws abound; 
They're honored men, your city's pride, 

Whoin you have made by vote and voice, 
I see them here on every side. 

Distinguished as the people's choice. 

From Manitoba to Peru, 

From San Francisco o'er to Maine, 
We're sure to find our brothers true 

To duty's call on every train ; 
And friends spring up to help us on — 

They've done it oft and will again — 
Because our Order rests upon 

Approval of our fellow-men. 


And, brothers, here's our worthy Chief, 

Who trul^^ fills Jehovah's plan, 
In every sense, 'tis my belief. 

That Arthur is an honest man. 
For ten long- years his counsels wise 

Have led us safely on our way. 
Until our streng-th and growth surprise 

Our best and dearest friends to-day. 

Well done. Eighteen ! tho' but a part 

And parcel of the mighty whole, 
Your acts shall thrill each brother's heart. 

Where'er he be between each pole. 
The widows' and the orphans' prayers 

Ascend like incense to the skies, 
To guard and keep you from the snares 

Of envious men's detracting lies. 

No dynamiters here are we, 

Nor enemies to social laws ; 
Our Brotherhood shall foremost be 

In every g^ood and worthy cause. 
We'll ujDward build, no shameful brawl 

Shall ever mar our path of right. 
As proof, behold this splendid hall 

We're dedicating here to-night ! 



It is better to sing* of good frolic and fun, 

And to whistle all care to the wind, boys. 
Than to sit and repine and all merriment shun, 

With a brake set on heart and on mind, boj^s. 
To the devil we'll fling* ev'ry pulse throb of pain 

That keeps beating confined in our breasts, boys. 
YeSjWe'll burst every link of the sorrowful chain. 

Which we nurture right under our vests, boys. 

'Tother evening young Flora came tripping along*. 

With her tresses afloat in the breeze, boys. 
Sure she captured my heart with her musical 

And she made me soon feel at my ease, boys. 
Oh ! I gazed in her eyes lit with honor and love. 

And I felt as courageous as Mars, boys. 
Although I'm as gentle and kind as a dove. 

For her sake I could march to the wars, boys. 

I was sad ere we met, but her beautiful hand. 

Which she placed in my big, brawny flst, boys, 
Made me joyous as any one found in the land ; 

For its thrill I could never resist, boys. 
So you see there is no use in nurturing* grief. 

And hugging it close to 3^our heart, boys. 
Better win some young Flora to give you relief, 

Then the blues will all quickly depart, boys. 



Of the Ladies' Society of the BROTHERHOon op Locomotive 
Engineers, Burlington, Ia. 

While we live we'll hear of wonders, 

I suppose they'll never cease, 
For with each succeeding- season 

They all rapidly increase ; 
But the latest startling- wonder 

That salutes our listening ears, 
Is a pioneer Division 

Of our lady engineers ! 

I'm delighted, full of rapture, 

Yes, and rigmarolling- fire. 
For I see there's no profession 

To which woman can't aspire. 
Now we find her at the throttle. 

Let us hail her with a cheer ; 
Let each brother send a greeting- 

To each sister engineer. 

I extend you all a welcome. 
You shall find I have the grip. 

And the mystic salutation, 
Which we plant upon the lip. 

It was rathei' dry embracing* 

Through the long years past and g-one, 


But henceforth we'll use the lip signs 
With our sisters every one. 

'Tis surprising- to me, ladies, 

How you ever clasped the throat 
Of our roystering, rambunctious. 

Rampant, rollicking old goat. , 

I confess the night I rode him, 

He was in a roaring rage. 
But perhaps his pranks are cooling, 

Like all human goats, with age. 

Well, you're in, and you are welcome 

As the flowers that bloom in May, 
And I know 'tis woman's nature 

Amongst social lads to stay ; 
We will treat you as our equals, 

For you've nobly paid your fees. 
And we'll let you take our places 

When o'er worked and needing ease. 

Heretofore men did the running. 
Now the husband trips may change 

With the wife, who'll take his engine. 
On a plan they'll both arrange ; 

He'll stay home and mind the babies, 
'Twill be penance for his sins. 


If, like me, he's blessed with squallers, 
In the shape of healthy twins. 

He can pack, key up, set wedg-es, 

And do all the oiling- round. 
Ere the engine leaves the station. 

So she'll take her safe and sound ; 
Then, as off you're booming, ladies. 

Watch each house when passing b^^, 
And perhaps some other darling 

Of your husband you may spy. 

She will think he's on the eng-ine. 

And may gently wave her hand 
To salute him when he's passing-, 

With a sign he'll understand ; 
If your nature should be jealous. 

And you meditate a crime. 
Should you stop the train to kill her, 

You'll be pulled for losing time. 

And when back 3^ou come with vengeance 
Bubbling up at every breath. 

Give the lad jou left dry-nursing-, 
Time to pray before his death. 

You are sure to think he's guilty. 
And will have your own SAveet way. 


Yet, before the lamb is slaug-htered, 
Let him have a chance to pray. 

Keep your temper with your fireman, 

For you'll often need his aid, 
But avoid the g-ay conductor, 

Be you widow, wife or maid ; 
If you don't you'll live to rue it 

With a sad, remorseful mind. 
For I know some sly old devils 

'Mong-st the tinselled caps behind. 

I will be your g-uardian ang-el, 

And protect you from the snares 
Of those oily-tong-ued deceivers. 

With their sweet, seductive airs ; 
I'll applaud your undertakings 

With a hearty voice and pen, 
And, before the year is over. 

You may hear from me again. 


Oh ! you grandly rolling river 

That majesticall3^ rides 
On your pathway to the ocean. 

Bearing on the countless tides, 


From the mig-hty lakes above 3^011, 
With an undiminished force, 

Since old Time first sent you bounding- 
On your never-ceasing- course. 

You have filled my heart with rapture, 

As I gazed in speechless awe 
At the noble works of Nature, 

Which within your bounds I saw 
At the loveliness profusely 

Scattered over many miles ; 
Where the Master-hand triumphant 

Decked the famous Thousand Isles. 

Here is foliage surpassing 

All the tints and rainbow dies. 
Which the sun in mid-day splendor, 

Grandl}^ paints from azure skies ; 
We find shade and sunshine blended, 

Em'rald green and burnished gold ; 
Making up a vision splendid 

And surprising to behold ! 

How transparent are your waters ! 

There the angler's vision tells 
Where the finny tribe are sporting 

In the rocky rifts and dells ; 


There with hook and line delig-hted, 

In his birchen-tree canoe, 
He may sport amid the treasures 

Which are lying- 'neath his view. 

Hear the strains of music rising- ! 

See the stately steamers ride, 
With their happy group of tourists 

On its clear, translucent tide ; 
Mark the yachts whose safe manoeuvres 

Keep them clear of countless oars, 
Which are sending liquid diamonds 

Rippling onward to your shores ! 

When the queen of night is reigning, 

With her starry train above. 
It is then all hearts commingle 

In the bonds of fervent love ; 
From your depths they are reflected, 

Just as peaceful as the smiles. 
Which the angels lavish fondly. 

To salute thee. Thousand Isles. 

Oh ! Great Being, omnipresent. 

Teach our hearts to render praise 

For the blessings which You send us, 

Lead us all to know Your ways ; 



And when life on earth is over, 
Let our souls to You arise, 

From such scenes as here I'm viewing", 
To our home beyond the skies. 


Pass your pipe along, partner, and here 

You and I'll have a sociable smoke. 
For the evening- is balmy and clear. 

And fair Luna's forgotten her cloak ; 
Through the deep azure hue of the sky. 

She triumphantly rides like a queen. 
And she looks with a ravishing eye 

Fondly down on all nature serene. 

Such a night how I love to recall 

The dear scenes of our youth up to view, 
When we fancied life's highway was all 

A delightful parade for us two ; 
Ere the trials and battles began 

To be fought for the bread which we eat ; 
When each yearned to march as a man, 

With the crowds who wei*e thronging the 


Then, how slowly the weeks seemed to roll, 

And old Thne seemed a lag"g*ard, whose feet 
Would ne'er lead to the coveted goal 

Where fruition of dreams we would meet ; 
Now, we're awed at the progress he made 

O'er the years like a meteor's flight, 
And oh, friend ! how I sigh for the glade 

Where we sported in bo^^hood, to-night. 

What a fanciful picture we drew 

Of a future remote from us then. 
Of the paths which we both should pursue, 

When we'd march to the music of men. 
We were sure of success on the road. 

And we dreamt not of hopeless defeat ; 
All unheeding we joyfully strode, 

Ever future ward fortune to meet. 

When 'twas wealth we aspired to — sit down. 

And don't jump from my side in disdain — 
For there is not a pauper in town 

Has more right than myself to complain ; 
When 'twas love — see that mouthful of smoke ; 

Note how quickly it faded in air ; 
'Twas an emblem of Cupid's sweet yoke. 

When we browsed on the lips of the fair. 


How we thirsted for fame, and we prayed 

For the time when we'd marcli with a g-un 
Did you find it the day that you made 

Such a race for the rear at Bull Run ? 
Or the day you ran old Ninety-Four 

Through the flock of fat g-obblers and saw 
The old farmer, who furiously swore 

That he'd shoot 3^ou according to law. 

Well, we've all got a mission to fill ; 

There's no changing Jehovah's decree ; 
And the terminal station is still 

In the distance for you, friend, and me. 
Let us faithf ull}^ run through the strife, 

Till the trip of our lives shall he o'er, 
Till old Death shuts the throttle of life. 

And sets brakes on eternity's shore. 


The Avharf -lines off are quickly cast. 

And we are outward bound at last. 

The skies are fair, the tide is free ; 

Our course is to the open sea. 

Our voyage, happily begun. 

Points eastward to the rising sun ; 

Where boyhood's scenes, long years gone by 


Attract us, and we backward hie, 
To have a brief sojourn. 
And now, to each remember 'd place, 
Fond mem'ry dearly loved to trace ; 
Where flowers bloom the year around. 
And health in ev'ry breeze is found. 
The exile's steps return. 

Our noble steamship cleaves her way 
With steady speed throug-h ocean's spray ; 
Each revolution of her wheel 
Vibrates along* her noble keel. 
Which stood the crash of mountain seas. 
And many a chilly wintry breeze. 
She bears us on, our hopes and fears, 
The dreams of many toilsome years 

Will soon be realized. 
Old Erin's hills once more to view. 
Arising- from the waters blue ; 
Again to step upon her soil. 
And for a season flee from toil. 

Are wishes dearly prized . 

Perhaps some callous heart may sneer 
At all those tender feelings dear. 
Which cluster 'round our early days 
And merit more than passing praise ; 


Which rise with every heaving breath, 
To hear fruition ere our death ; 
A steady wish, once more to view 
Those hye-gone scenes of roseate hue, 

Which fancy can beguile. 
Where first a father's love we felt, 
Or at a mother's knee we knelt. 
And learned to lisp the simple prayer, 
For God to guard our lives from care, 

In Erin's sainted isle. 

The man whose noble heart can feel 
The glorious sports of boyhood steal 
In through the cares of riper years. 
Until his eyes o'erflow with tears. 
Can judge the joy of him whose hopes 
Are cluster'd 'round the sunny slopes 
Of cloudless youth, life's morning prime, 
When backward to his native clime 

He goes in middle age ; 
Expecting everything the same. 
As when he felt youth's joyous flame. 
Amid companions, blithe as e'er. 
Defied the touch of cruel care 

To mar life's opening page. 

The liberated clouds of steam 
Above the funnels brightly gleam ; 


The engines groan with toiUng stroke, 

And backward trail dense banks of smoke. 

The log-book tells of rapid strides 

We daily make o'er ocean tides ; 

It tells we near the wished for shore, 

From which we sailed long years before, 

Across the Western main. 
And now, like pilgrims to a shrine, 
We swiftly move through trackless brine. 
Before another sun shall fade, 
A landing may be safely made 

On Erin's shores again. 

Behold beneath the morning skies 
A glorious scene of grandeur rise ! 
Oh, joyous sight ! Oft wished for day. 
For which the exile's heart did pray ; 
Through thirty hoary winters long. 
We sighed for you in prayers and song. 
And now our eyes are bless 'd at last. 
Dear Erin we are nearing fast 

Before a pleasant gale ! 
Our decks present a moving mass 
Of anxious people as we pass 
By chalky cliffs and em'rald hills, 
A rapture through each bosom thrills. 

When nearing old Kinsale ! 


Upon our beam we sight Tramore, 
And soon our voyag-e shall be o'er. 
Our feet shall touch the sainted sod, 
Where humble hearts salute their God, 
At every rising- of the sun, 
And when his course is westward run. 
Dunleary ! after many years, 
Again we shed pathetic tears, 

Unchecked they slowly fall ; 
For moments such as these we sighed, 
When moving 'mid the ceaseless tide 
Of busy men, who throng the plains, 
Where priceless Freedom truly reigns. 

Impartially for all. 

But where are those we hoped to find ? 
The comrades dear we left behind ? 
The loved companions of our youth. 
Whose hearts were filled with hope and trutli ; 
Who played with us on primrose banks. 
Long, long ago, in boyish pranks, 
■ When fleet of foot, and light of heart. 
We studied neither grace nor art 

Upon the village green ; 
But true to nature, whiled away 
The hours, until the sun's last ray 
Had faded o'er the flow'ry plain. 


Or sunk beneath the heaving- main ? 

Thej^'re nowhere to be seen. 

The very houses, once so tall, 

Appear diminutive, and all 

The thing's we conned in mem'ry o'er, 

Are lost to view for evermore. 

The daisies seem to be less fair 

Than when we wove brig-ht g-arlands there 

Long- years ag-o, the birds, whose song" 

Did throug-h our yearning* fancies throng-. 

Discordantly we hear. 
All thing-s have chang-ed. The churchyard 

A mound was scatter'd here and there. 
Is now a mass of simple stones. 
Where lie entombed the mold 'ring- bones 
Of those we loved so dear. 

Oh, hopes we cherished, daily prized. 
Expecting- they'd be realized. 
Alas ! our sig-hs and tears *were vain 
When hug-g-ing- each delusive train, 
Which long-ing' fancies fondly wove 
Around the scenes of early love. 
The g-ulf dividing- youth and ag-e, 
O'er which a wear^^ pilg-rimag-e 

Reluctantly was made. 


Can ne'er be crossed, how e'er we crave 
To bridg-e it o'er this side the g-rave ; 
Its depths contain the buried jo3^s, 
Entombed since we were careless boys, 
And froliced in the glade. 

The sunny slopes, and winding- streams, 
Oft visited in countless dreams ; 
The wooded hills, the teeming- plain, 
O'er which we viewed the waving- g-rain ; 
The mossy dells, the leaf}^ g-rove, 
Where we in early j^ears did rove ; 
The river clear, which swept along-, 
The birds we heard in ceaseless song-, 

Have all so sadl}^ chang-ed ! 
The,y never more will look the same 
As when we felt the g'lowing- flame 
Of happy childhood, long- ago, 
Because our eyes are dimm'd Avith woe, 

And hearts with care estranered. 

An attack of malaria which lasted a week. 
Had a wholesome effect, as I now am quite weak. 

And altho' convalescing, yet sad ; 
Oh ! I thought : is the battle of life with its ills 


To be finished at last amid fevers and chills, 
Ere the spirit ascends to its God ? 

When the pulse of the heart's ranning- rapidly 

And a lack-lustre g-lance indicates in the eye, 

That 'tis time to prepare for the worst. 
What a long" chain of ills will parade in full view, 
Every one looming- up with a sulphurous hue. 

Which our own selfish bosoms have nursed. 

As we g-aze Avith the unclouded eye of the mind, 
Over scenes which we thoug"ht were forgotten 
How we shiver and shake with dismaj^ 
In our health 'twas our boast the g-ood times we 

But in illness we find the illusion destroyed, 
And for pardon most humbly we pray. 

When old Death hovers nig-h how the conscience 

can sting-. 
As the spirit prepares far away to take wing- 

From the casket which bore it in life. 
But the Lord only knows on what course it will 


Whether up in a joj^ous career to the sky. 
Or g-o down to contention and strife. 


How my thoug"hts travel'd back with a yearning' 

To the spring-time of hfe when the future looked 
As I gazed down the vista of years ; 
Then I never once dreamed as the future did ope 
To my view from the top of youth's mountain of 
That the distance held valle^^s of tears. 

In such rapid succession the seasons sped on, 
Very soon the bright visions of youth were all 

Nevermore to enliven the scene. 
I have found, as so many discovered before. 
That the thorns lie thick on each path we explore. 

On the mountains, and valle^^s between. 

How we murmur about our disconsolate lot. 
In a rancorous mood, just because we have not 

An abundance of this world's wealth ; 
If we'd pause, and reflect, in our hearts we would 

As the best of all gifts sent us down from the 
The enjoyment of bodily health. 

Ask a man on his bed when he's tortured Avith 


If his thoug-hts are distracted by miserly gain. 

If his answer be "yes" then we know 
That he'll order a pocket put into his shroud, 
So he'll carry his hoardings away from earth's 

To the place he's expecting- to go. 

What a fool ! All the wealth that was ever 

In the bowels of earth to his soul wouldn't yield 

Half a second of peaceful repose ; 
Little use will he have for his ducats when Death 
Lifts the scales to blow off all his miserly breath, 
Ere the clay rattles down on his nose. 

There are many who'll laugh at the tone of my 

Who imagine their lives are devoid of all w^rong, 

And their acts can pass muster on high ; 
Let them once get a chill which shall shake them 

all o'er, 
From the roots of their hair to their heart's in- 
most core. 
And then truly confess what the3^'ll spy. 

It will make us content with what fortune may 

And when life's checkered voyage approaches its 



If we're poor we can think ourselves blest; 
We are sure to be placed just as deep in the clay 
As the men who bequeath all their millions away, 

And can g-o more contented to rest. 


The mother's heart is sear'd with woe, 

Her dearest hope is fled ; 
The tears in torrents downward flow. 

Her flrst-born boy is dead. 
The friends who gather 'round the sod 

Would fain assuag-e her g-rief ; 
But she alone must look to God, 

To g-ive her heart relief. 

A few short moons he nestled near 

Her kind, maternal breast, 
Where,twined around her heart-string's dear. 

She'd lull him off to rest ; 
She'd closely scan his infant face, 

As in her arms he'd lie. 
And ev'ry want she'd quickl}^ trace, 

Beneath her watchful eye. 


Like flowers, chilled with frosty air, 

He wilted in his bloom ; 
And now, behold him lifeless there, 

Above his childish tomb. 
The mother's tears are rolling- free 

Upon the casket lid. 
But in a moment more he'll be 

From human eyesight hid. 

Ah ! yes, strew flowers on his grave, 

All you with senses calm ; 
But for the mother's grief I crave 

Some sympathizing balm ; 
A tempest rages in her breast. 

Her hopes are 'neath the sod ; 
She'll never more find tearless rest. 

Till with her babe and God. 


A REPLY TO Complimentary Resolutions sent to the Author, on 


I have always had faith that the future would 
A fewgiftsfrom Miss Fortune to help me along, 
How the jade at my ear did delusively sing 
Of her plans for my welfare, in soul-stirring- 


But,alas! like the paymaster's car on some roads, 
When I thought her at hand, from my grasp 
she would slip. 
Yet, she'd feed me with smiles, which were silver- 
g-ilt goads. 
And she'd stuff me with hopes just as worthless 
as scrip. 
She is coming again from some boys in the west. 
And she's singing a songmost delusively sweet, 
Telling how they're uniting to "feather my nest, ' ' 

For a trip to old Erin with outfit complete. 
Oh, the joy of ni}^ heart is unbounded to-night. 
'Tis a fact and not " blarney " I'm giving you 
For there's nothing can give me one-half the de- 
As a European voyage, salt billows to plow. 

How I yearn to view the green fields of my birth ! 
I would like to see Paddy, as found in his home. 
Till I'd note him, tho' shackled, all bubbling with 
Which he never forgets in the climes where 
he'll roam ; 
Save a renegade few, whom all mankind despise. 
Who'd deny their old mother, and spit in her 
How they struggle their accent and names to dis- 


Tlioug'li the map of the island is stamped on each 

We have Charhes from Kerry, and WilUams 
from Clare, 
We have Delias from Carlow, and Jules from 
We have Raymonds from Wicklow and Hanks 
from Kildare, 
And we've red-headed Celias just out from Ty- 
rone ! 
By the Gods ! I aver they were Biddies and Pats, 
In the land where potatoes must pass for a 
Where their honest old fathers first christened 
the brats, 
With the aid of some patriot, God fearin^- 

Oh, I love the old land, tho' in shackles she pines. 
And I dream of the valleys, each river and rill. 
To be found dotted over the verdant confines 
Of her borders, where freedom is soug-ht after 
May each renegade wretch with a sand-papered 
When it wags to deny her with scotf and with 
Be cut off from communion all mankind among. 
Till some sheritf persuasively tickles his ear. 



I will bring- every member of One-Tliirty-Six 

A decoction of blarney out fresh from the stone ; 
But,m3^ boys, if I juclg-e by yom^ roystering- tricks, 

You have g-ot a sufficiency now of your own. 
I see Cavner is out with a Quixotic plan 

For the g-ood of theboj^s, which I very much fear 
Will not work, till we're sure of perfection in man, 

Or until the much-looked for Millenium's here. 

The old ship of the Brotherhood 'sbooming-along-, 

With her bunting* all set to prosperity's g-ales ; 
Don't you think, Brother Cavner, the act would 
be wrong*, 

Should we alter her course or the set of her sails? 
There's no sig-n of a tempest on weather or lee. 

Not a pirate's onboard that we know of to-day; 
So my bo3', let her float g'ayly over the sea, 

As she's steering- at present in glorious array. 

To you all my reg-ards. Keep my face to the wall 
When the wives of some Mormon are visiting- 
'Tis a fashion of ladies to visit each hall 
Where a handsome collection of boys may be 
There's but one wife allowed to each man in New 


And the man who wants more must be proof 
ag-ainst fire ; 

As for me, I must keep pretty steady at work 

For the lady who's wedded to Shandy Mag-uire. 


I suppose it is my duty 

A few compHments to pay 
To the bride and g-room together 

On their glorious wedding day ; 
I will do it, but I'm doubtful 

If this rhyme will suit your ear. 
Yet, we ofttimes have to listen 

To some truths we hate to hear. 

A few months ago I dragged you 

From the tomb of one I knew 
To be upright, true and faithful, 

During twenty years, to you. 
And I pitied you sincerely. 

For I truly thought you'd rave 
Everlastingly about her. 

Till you'd join her in the grave. 


You put crape upon your engine, 

And you wore it on your hat, 
And you looked like Misery's mother, 

As within the cab you sat ; 
Then, I thought 3^ou grieved sincerely, 

Now, I know it was a plan 
You invented, so the ladies 

Would know where to seek a man. 

And one found you, Jerry, darling. 

She's a simple little fool. 
That's but lately out of short-clothes, 

And had better be at school. 
Than to wed a man whose whiskers 

Are kept dyed from chin to ears. 
To conceal the grizzled tell-tales 

Of his forty-seven years. 

"Sure an old fool is the w^orst fool," 

As my mother often said. 
And I've always known her, Jerry, 

To have wisdom in her head. 
Folks will take her for your daughter 

Promenading at 3' our side, 
Till some wag will kindl}^ tell them : 

"It is Jerry's bouncing bride." 


I have been surmising- lately 

There was '^something- in the air," 
With your laundried linen daily, 

And your oily head of hair. 
As you'd go to pull a coal train, 

Scarcely noting passers hy, 
With your nose at such an angle. 

That it pointed to the sky. 

You would sport a cane on Sunday, 

As 3^ou Avent to see your love. 
And each greasy hand was hidden 

In an over-crowded glove ; 
And you tried to look as boyish 

And as youthful as your son ; 
But, you old, deluded driv'ler, 

We were laughing at the fun. 

Man, when in the "roaring forties" 

Going dow^n the grade of life. 
Has a soft spot in his noddle. 

When he wants a second wife ; 
He is sure to seek a young one. 

For some reason of his own. 
And he needs her just as badly 

As a hungry dog a stone. 


You will soon need porous plasters 

Pasted all along- your spine, 
And you'll take a nervous palsy, 

And you'll have a quick decline, 
And you'll need a pair of crutches, 

And a doctor, and a nurse. 
And perhaps your bouncing- beaut}^ 

May be wanting- a divorce. 

She'll soon tie your toes tog-ether 

With a half a yard of tape. 
And upon your nickle door-knob. 

She shall hang- a bunch of crape ; 
And she'll stand beside 3'our coffin 

Shedding- g-lad tears on your face, 
Thinking on what youthful lover 

She shall marry in your place. 

My dear, married, lady-readers. 

There's a moral to my song-. 
Which you've found if you have closely 

Scanned its truthful lines along- ; 
You have all g-ot ^'Jeremiahs" 

Who 're impatient for the time 
When old Death shall send you booming- 

Up to some celestial clime. 


I advise you most sincerely 

To be careful of 3^our health, 
You will find it pay you better 

Than accumulating* wealth, 
For some second wife to scxuander 

On her captivating- charms, 
Once your husband has her snoring- 

In his old, delighted arms. 


I have just got the news of your marriage, 

Indeed, 'twas a pleasing surprise. 
Sent from one who would always disparage 

The brilliancy beaming from eyes 
Which are lit by the loves and the graces, 

Bewitchingly dancing in joy ; 
And could laugh at all maidenly faces 

That sought to ensnare you, my boy. 

You've been caught in the soft, silken netting. 
Which Cupid around you entwined ; 

Yes, and all your past sermons forgetting*^ 
You entered the bondage resigned. 


I suppose you took leave of all others 

You lavished affection upon ? 
For in marriag-e, you know, like our mothers, 

We're only entitled to one. 

Now, adieu to the nights which we sported 

Around the convivial board ; 
Where a few social fellows resorted, 

With minds full of merriment stored. 
Where we ling-ered from nig-ht until morning, 

Carousing in story and song ; 
Till old Sol would peep in to give warning 

'Twas time to be moving- along. 

I suppose all the keepsakes, and tokens. 

And trophies of love you possess, 
From the girls which you said were heart-broken. 

You returned to console their distress ? 
If you havn't, make haste, boy, and do it, 

'Twill make your path smoother through life. 
Or if not, time will come when you'll rue it. 

If ever they're found by your wife. 

When we meet in the future, demurely 
We'll talk like two deacons in prayer ; 

With a drawl to protect us securely 
Against our dear wives' critic stare. 


They will think we were saints ere we met them, 
They'll fancy that each won a prize, 

And imag-ine us anxious to g"et them — 
But, b03% we'll throw dust in their eyes. 

All our old, glorious evenings are over. 

We'll simply salute and pass on ; 
We'll no longer wade knee-deep in clover. 

Our nights of carousing are gone. 
We will sigh when we' think of the chorus 

We raised from a union of throats ; 
Hereafter, dear boy, we've before us 

A very rich crop of " wild oats." 

If I ever meet Fanny, I'll tell her 

Her charms are on the decline ; 
And I'll ask what misfortune befell her 

Her chances on you to resign ; 
And if Susie, or Nelhe, or Mollie, 

Remember your light-spoken vows, 
I will say you repent of your folly. 

And wish you had each for a spouse. 

Now, I'll do a friend's share in consoling 

The darlings you parted in grief ; 
For, like you, I've a knack at condoling 

With maidens to give them relief ; 


Yet, I don't think they'll die broken-hearted. 

Because 3^ou are married and gone ; 
They know many a maid you deserted, 

Before you struck colors to one. 


Away with 3^our flimsy romances, 

All you who sit dreaming' of love ; 
In wedlock you take man^^ chances. 

When tied to your conjugal dov^e. 
The one to please me must be mistress 

Of wholesome, culinary art. 
And move through my sensitive stomach 

Right into the joys of ni}" heart. 

Bright e3^es may be pleasant to gaze on. 

And lips may be lusciously- sweet. 
They'll please you, perhaps, for a season. 

Until you need something to eat ; 
But when all your vitals are gnawing 

For dishes more solid than air. 
The smiles of the darling won't stifle 

The stings of your appetite there. 


If she can preside in the kitchen, 

With other accomphshments too, 
Why, then, you may call her an ang-el. 

Whom Heaven conferred upon you. 
I'd never complain of her features, 

Tho' coarse every lineament be. 
But call her the fairest of creatures, 

Who feeds me on good thing's at tea. 

Or when from the bed in the morning- 

To breakfast I'm told to arise, 
To see her the table adorning-. 

Can g-ive me most joyful surprise. 
The smell of rich coffee's enticing-. 

The toil of the day it beguiles, 
I start to my duty rejoicing. 

And kiss her good-b^^e full of smiles. 

^^All beauty's skin deep" says the proverb. 

And liable quickly to fade. 
Remember it well when your choosing 

Some artful, young, exquisite maid ; 
Be sure she can cook a good dinner, 

For, mind you, when beauty is gone, 
'Twill save you being damned as a sinner, 

To know such a prize you have won. 

316 sit ANDY MAGUIRE. 


Who Complimented a Conductor. 

All ! say you so, Mr. Reporter ? 

Indeed, it is wonderful news ! 
And really, 1 think 'tis a subject 

Quite worthy an hour with my Muse ; 
For I've known Tom for .years, and I've pulled him 

A many a mile, off and on, 
And I like to partake of the pleasure 

Men feel when their work is well done. 

It is pleasing- to see in your paper 

A name that's as worthy as his. 
And your readers will all he delig"hted 

To witness the smile on his phiz ; 
And yourself — hut of course it is fancy 

Which runs throug-h my ig-norant brain — 
When I say for that ^^puff" ^^ou'll be welcome 

To ride when you choose on his train. 

To the brig-ht, sparkling eyes of the ladies 

A hero he's certain to pose ; 
He's all smiles, like a cat in the cupboard. 

With dishes of cream at her nose. 
How the darling-s admire his white linen, 

His di'monds, his watch-chain, and ring-s. 
Oh, they'd think him an angel off duty. 

Except that he's minus the wings. 


How the furrows of care are now creeping 

Unbidden his features about ; 
They are there from the torture he sutfers 

Each day that his coaches go out. 
The suspense of his calling is fearful ! 

The strain on his nerves is severe ! 
And the cushions in coaches are thorny 

To sit on in comfort, I fear. 

When the nights are dark, foggy, or rainy, 

Torpedoes may fail to explode, 
And the train may be suddenly halted 

At stations not marked on the road ; 
For his eyes, ever watchful of danger. 

Can see far ahead in the night. 
But he'll soon make the passengers happy 

By telling them things are all right. 

When the pumps will not work how he worries. 

And often injectors will " break ; " 
It is sad at such times how he'll suffer ; 

In mental affliction he'll shake. 
When the pointer goes back, or when bearings 

From friction are smoking and hot, 
'Tis a pitiful sight to behold him 

Bewail his responsible lot ! 


With the mercury down below zero, 

And chilled from his head to his toes, 
One would think that he'd die from exposure, 

As icicles hung* from his nose ; 
In the drawing'-room car is no comfort 

Foi' Tom, when the snow-drifts are high, 
But the boys in the cab are in clover. 

When Boreas shrieks wild through the sky. 

At a halt, or a jar, or a movement. 

Which comes unexpected, he'll frown; 
And sharp words in profusion he'll mutter. 

Regarding his blue-shirted clown ; 
Oh, how wise then the passengers think him. 

When fears he'll create to allay. 
For they know^ his cool head will protect them 

From obstacles strewn in the way ! 

I could sit here a w^eek eulogizing 

His curly, executive head. 
But a voice is discordantly jarring 

The sti'ings of my lyre from the bed ; 
And the stars in the eastward are fading 

Awa3' from the track of the sun, 
So dear Mr. Reporter, good-morning. 

All further temptation I'll shun. 



Come;, fill up 3^our giass to o'erflowiiig', 

And drink to the time when we met ; 
When hearts were with merriment g-lowing', 

In days we're too apt to forget, 
When you and I followed our fancies, 

Regardless of where we would stray. 
Providing sweet lilies and pansies 

Were blooming along by the way. 

We sipped of the sweets which were g-rowing 

On lips luscious ripe to be pressed. 
We fondled the dear ones, Avell knowing 

The pleasure the^^'d feel when caressed. 
Now till ! Here's to Susie and Mollie 

We loved long ago in their teens ; 
Who always felt social and jolly. 

And acted as graceful as queens. 

Bethink you the night in the gloaming. 

When sweet airy-nothings we wove. 
To please the young maids who were roaming 

Beside us in Mayberry's grove ? 
Come, drain off a bumper to Fannie, 

The darling who strolled at 1113^ side. 
And I will fill up to dear Annie, 

Who'laughed when you called her your bride. 


( )nce more let us fill while we've reason, 

And Mem'ry presides on her throne ; 
Our hearts can feel joy for a season, 

When thinking' of days that are g'one. 
We've care to contend with too often. 

When breasting the billows of strife, 
So, here's to the thoughts which can soften 

The buffets we meet with in life. 

Too soon will enjoyment be over, 

And full every line on the page ; 
We'll live the remainder in clover. 

And laugh in the teeth of old Age. 
With wine we can drive away wrinkles. 

Now, fill up our glasses once more ; 
We'll not care for Time when he sprinkles 

Our locks with gray hair from his store. 


What a tramp you have had through the realms 
of thought ! 
How the corns must torture your feet ! 
And what byways and hidden resorts you have 
Through the years that have vanished so fleet I 
I had almost forgotten the days you recall 


From your memory's plentiful store, 
Li.n'htyour dudeen, avick ! till we'll chat over all 
Those hrig-ht days thafc we'll never see more. 

Nearly twenty long- years since the nig*ht that 
we made 
Our debut on the stage to the throng ! 
Oh, how quickly old Time is descending" life's 
As he drags us reluctant along. 
How we fancied that night what great actors we 
And we looked for bouquets at the close. 
But, alas ! save a cabbage head flung- at us there, 
No applause from spectators arose. 

How you made up your phiz for a villainous part. 

And how tragic you strode o'er the spot 
Where 3^ou fancied the people would thrill at the 
You displayed jibing- ^^Judy O'Trot." 
But, my boy, by the smoke that ascends 'round 
my nose. 
She soon brought'all your antics to grief 
With the handy shillalah, concealed 'neath her 
As she hunted you off like a thief. 

Sure poor "Flahertj^" never was fit for a priest. 
Holy church does not want such as he ; 



For he never could fast, but the first at a feast 

Was the same sly, seductive Mag-ee. 
And old "Judy" is now a plump matron, whose 
Is as round as a hillock of hay ! 
And yourself — an old bachelor, stuffed up with 
"Which you use to drive wrinkles away. 

" Rag-g-ed Pat " is still here puffing* mouthfuls of 

Doing pennance in fevers and chills, 
For the da3^s and the nights that he scoffed at 
life's yoke, 

And derided humanity's ills. 
He is changed, I confess, and I fear for the worse. 

Growing old with the buffets of time ; 
Oh, I truly believe he inherits the curse 

Meted out to all g-arblers of rhyme. 
Dennis Hayes he is rich and respected besides ; 

" Slang"," he lives, but a warning- to all 
Who would dare follow woman, with serpentine 

For they surely will meet with a fall. 
So, take warning, my boy, and go get 3^ou a wife, 

You are yet a good looking gossoon ; 
Find some old woman's daug-hter to sweeten your 

With a dose of " chin music," aroon ! 


" Gentle Florence " is sleeping- the sleep of the 

Where Ontario's clear, liquid Avave 
Rolls along- on the beach, in monotonous tread. 

And besprinkles the grass on her g-rave. 
And " Old Stone " has been judg-ed by the Ruler 
of king-s, 

At the throne of Jehovah on high ; 
Let us hope he's an angel, adorned with wings, 

'Mongst the Christ-ransomed souls in the sky. 

How the memories afloat, clad in ghostly array. 

Intermingled with smoke, as I write I 
Let us fill a fresh pipe till we drive them away 

To the graves of oblivion to-night. 
In a few fleeting ^^ears at the most we will be 

Their companions again evermore, 
For we soon will be launched on that limitless sea, 

Which no mortal did ever explore. 


Here's my little brown-eyed beauty, 
With her head of sunny curls. 

She's the sweetest, and the dearest 
Of all darling little girls. 


She comes laughing- when I call her, 
And she'll jump into my arms, 

Where I gaze in silent rapture 
On her early budding charms. 

If I'm sad her ringing laughter 

Soon dispels the gloom away. 
For her genial disposition 

Can change night to glorious day ; 
She is ever kind, and willing, 

And obliging as can be ; 
She is all my earthly treasure 

With liser carols full of glee. 

With paternal feelings, tender, 

I bestow each pure embrace. 
Till she's nearly suffocated, 

As I spread them o'er her face. 
May the years pass lightly o'er her. 

And the future have in store 
Every virtue to endow her, 

Till her days of life are o'er. 



Handy And^^, what a spalpeen 

Is your mother's darling- son, 
And how droll you cut your capers 

When you're dealing- out your fun. 
You're a flrst-class bastinado 

In the manner which you write, 
And a moralizing rascal, 

Who pursues me day and night. 

How you gloat about my torture, 

When I'm shaking with the chills. 
In the rhymes you keep prescribing, 

That can gripe me worse than pills. 
You are acting as a mirror 

Holding up before my view. 
Sins of which I know I'm guiltless. 

Can I say the same for you ? 

If you look within your bosom, 

If you'll pull aside the veil 
Which conceals your imperfections. 

And repeat to us the tale 
Of all horrors 3'ou'll discern, 

Through the years you left behind. 
What a moral I will scribble 

As a Avarning for mankind ! 


You will find the ten commandments 

Are all knocked in smithereens ; 
All our holy church's precepts 

You destroyed when in your teens ; 
For pride, avarice, and envy, 

Ang-er, g-luttony, and sloth, 
Are all sins of your commission, 

I will take my honest oath. 

You would like to tell me, And}^, 

How to lead a better life ; 
While yourself would play the rascal 

With your neig'hbor's handsome wife. 
But, beware ! the day of reck'ning 

Has a story to reveal 
Of your midnight capers, Andy, 

That 3^ou never can conceal. 

All the fishes in the ocean. 

Served on Fridays and through Lent, 
Will not purge away your follies. 

In 3^our efforts to repent. 
You will need a scourging penance, 

Like all hypocritic rogues. 
Some sharp carpet-tacks well scattered 

In a pair of cowhide brogues. 


I am not much of a Christian, 

And I'll tell the reason why : 
In my youth I suffered, And}?-, 

'Neath my good old mother's e^^e. 
I was doomed for holy orders, 

Where I'd lead a saintly life, 
'Till the faculty determined 

I had better take a wife. 

So I'm here in toil and trouble ; 

And hereafter, who can tell 
Whether up I'll g-o to Heaven, 

Or g-o down below to — Well, 
It don't matter where they'll send me, 

I'll be found good souls among, 
Where I'll hear your cries below me. 

Asking ice to cool your tongue. 


(Delivered at the Benefit Entertainment, June 15, 1882.) 

Kind friends, assembled here to-night, 
Whose gen'rous hearts beat high and warm 

For him removed awa^^ from sight. 
With lioar\^ locks and aged form ; 


Who strugg-les 'neath a stranger sky, 
A mere subsistence there to find ; 

Your presence here can testify 
To numerous friends he left behind. 

The lengthened shadows of his life 

Are stretching into evening gloom ; 
No kindred near, no child, no wife, 

To smooth his pathway to the tomb. 
But we who've known his better days, 

Wh^n friendship seemed to smile secure. 
Will ne'er refuse him well-won praise. 

Who now is lonely, old and poor. 

His creed is simple ; it is laid 

Upon the universal plan 
That Christ upon the Mount portrayed 

When dealing with his fellow-man. 
His heart is pure and free from guile. 

His views are broad and unconfined ; 
He scorns alike the bigot's wile 

And all the unbelieving kind. 

With pathos, mirth, and heart-felt song. 
He wages ceaseless war on might ; 

He never yet upheld a wrong. 
But always advocated right. 


For this he's exiled from the shores 
Where first he drew his native breath ; 

For this he foug-ht in Union wars 

Where Treason met its bloody death. 

Meag-her's Brig-ade can testify 

On iRciny fields, how hard he strove 
To keep forever floating high 

The banner, which all freeman love. 
Beneath the green flag in the van. 

He faced the battle's cloudy marge, 
Where blood in crimson rivers ran, 

Which marked the valiant Irish charge. 

He never asked the creed or clime 

Of dying men upon the sod ; 
But preached to all that text sublime, — 

To trust a universal God. 
If human aid their lives could save. 

He'd labor there to ease their pain ; 
If not, the pathway to the grave 

He'd smooth for every hero slain. 

And such a creed as that will bind 
The good and true of every land ; 

And such a man will always find 

Staunch friends to take him by the hand ; 


Misfortune's bitter gales ma}^ blow 
And strike such men with ic^^ breath, 

But friendship's grasp will ne'er let go 
Till eyes are closed and sealed in death. 

Oh ! had I but his g-ift of song, 

And were his genius mine, I'd write 
How well I thank the generous throng 

Of friends, who love him here to-night. 
Tho' absent we shall ne'er forget 

How well he filled old ISTature's plan ; 
And till his sun of life shall set, 

We'll aid the old and lonely man. 


Now, my brothers, imagine me standing before 
In talent, the least of our Brotherhood's bards. 
I have made (in ni}'^ mind) this long trip to encore 
As here you've assembled, and pay my regards. 
I have left the cold hills of New York, where the 
Are frozen for months in a vast, icy plain ; 


Took a tramp, as it were, to the wives and the 

And husbands and Brothers, residing- in Maine. 

Sure, methinks I see Tucker, that prince of good 

Who alwa^^s is certain of Brotherhood cheers, 
Because he is kind, as his actions all tell us, 

And treats with respect all his loved engineers. 
May his name sound along down the ages in 

Enshrined in the hearts of the good and the 

'Till old Death whistles brakes, and we place him 
in sadness, 

To rest, as our tears we bestrew on his grave. 

We brought Foss— he's our Chief, and a kind of 
a dandy. 

His trips are all made with his gloves on his 

How I'd like to write down just the same of poor 

Whose fists are both greasy from scouring 
the glands. 

Brothers Angel and Spier, Keith, Towle, Lowe, 
and Sampson, 

Rowe, Richardson, Sweet, Ferry, Gilbert and 


Every one of them wortlij^ a nobleman's ransom, 
And faithful as any existing in Maine. 

And we've Fortier here too; yes, and Coburn 

And Davis, and hearty, good-natured "old 


Close, and Rafter, in mirth and the moments 


With stories of numerous miles which tlie^^ ran. 

Brothers Hilborn, Gilpin, and Cobb are delighted. 

And taking a little respite from rough toil ; 
1 will mention one more who came near being 
You know I refer to my countr^anan, Do^de. 

To the rest of you here, though denied of the 

Of saying- 1 know you and met you before, 
I will whisper my jo^^, the first moment of leisure. 

And talk in the language of mystical lore. 
Oh ! I know there is pride in each social reunion, 

To tell it defying- the power of my pen. 

As we gather in cro^vds and converse in commun- 
Uniting in friendship all Brotherhood men . 

Tho' in Bangor we meet we are banded together, 
Cemented by ties which are dear to each heart ; 


And we come, disregarding* the distance or 

I know with regrets from your town we'll de- 

But while mem'ry survives we will think of this 
And shrine up the moments we spent at your 
Till assembled again for another such greeting. 
Some day, not far o(f , as we future w^ard glide. 

While w^e're true to the cause we'll he true to each 

And men will respect us all over the land ; 
Let us prove there is more in the title of "brother, ' ' 

Than simply the name and a clasp of the hand ; 
If we do, Payson Tuckers all over the nation 

Will surely befriend us when needing their aid ; 
For each one can be faithful, tho' lowly in station. 

And truthful and honest, while climbing life's 


Winsome Jennie came to-day 

With a wreath of smiles to meet me ; 
As she spied me, wiien at play. 

And with radient joy did greet me. 


Cliilclisli curls hang-ing- clown 
O'er her neck, such sunny tresses ! 

Not a sig-n of fear or frown, 
Dealing- out her sweet caresses. 

Jennie, little can 3^ou tell 

Of the years long since departed, 
When your mother was a belle. 

And I nearly broken-hearted ! 
How the times have changed since then ! 

Here I'm now in mid-3^ears, rather 
Wrinkled, like all toiling men. 

Old enough to be your father ! 

I can see ^^'our mother's eyes 

Sparkling in unconscious gladness I 

But, they cost me many sighs I 

Yes, and nights of sleepless madness. 
In the dreamy long ago ! 

Ere the cup of 3^outh flowed over. 
And exposed its dregs of woe, 

To her old time ardent lover ! 

How my ^^outhful fancies wove 
Garlands out of airy notions ! 

How I'd rhyme of dove and love, 
Pledg-ing all my heart's devotions ! 


Daily, hourly. Could it last ? 

Well, it didn't, for we parted, 
When our dream of love was past 

Neither one died broken-hearted ! 

When w^e meet so seldom now. 

She is like some saintl,y sister ; 
And denies each loving- vow 

Which she made as oft I kissed her. 
I am chang-ed I must confess. 

She has lost her former graces. 
Silver streaks through ev'ry tress ; 

Turkey tracks on both our faces ! 

Handsome blonde ! I see her yet. 

As in dreams I backward w^ander ! 
When she swore to ne'er forget. 

But through life to love the fonder. 
Lovers' oaths ! A perjured train, 

Retrospectivelj^ are dancing-, 
In each settled, sober brain. 

Of those moments spent entrancing- ! 

Now, at last, our dreams are over. 
And your fickle-hearted mother 

Went to browse in other clover. 
Like myself she wed another. 


Winsome Jennie ! never tell 
Of this resurrected story, 

For, you know, my little belle. 
Both our heads are g-rowing hoary 


You are now the Grand Chaplain of Brotherhood 

And, by virtue of office, the "Sisterhood" too. 
Will peruse with deligiit every flash of your pen, 

And think them infallible coming from you. 
There's a license attached to your calling we 

You are sure of a welcome wherever you g-o. 
'Tis a roving commission to steer where you 

Just as free as the flights you partake with your 

For a man with a clerical cut to his coat. 
Will be sure of distinction and worthy of note. 
'Tis a calling I love from the depths of my heart ; 
They're the boys who can furnish us compass and 

For a flesh-purg'ing' trip, on the ocean of life ; 
Where we're told to avoid all contention and 



And admonished to scourg-e the grhn tempter 

That has made his abode in our caskets of clay. 
We are told to give alms, practice fasting- and 


Whilst themselves can sit down to rich, sumptu- 
ous fare. 

Yes, they mark out the course they insist we must 

For the portals of Heaven, where bliss evermore 
Will be meted out freely to each engineer. 
When he climbs up the grade of the ^ ^Beautiful 

Now, my worthy old friend, theological schools 
Do not teach all the wisdom this world contains; 

For I've known one or two egotistical fools 
Who supposed they were preaching to men 
without brains. 

On the fat of the land every day they could dine, 

And they gargled their throats with full bumpers 
of wine ; 

Dressed in choicest of broadcloth for daily pa- 

As they sauntered, consoling wives, widows and 

You are not of this class, for I know you of old, 
I am sure you will lead all the sheep to the fold. 
Like the piper of Hamelin, your musical trills 



Are the strains we will follow up Heavenly hills. 
All the ladies liere praise every song from your 

And they sa^^ you sing- sw^eeter than Shandy Ma- 

I supposed myself once the high priest of the 

Which I was till the darlings became engineers. 
But, alas ! I'm dethroned, and you reign in my 

place ; 
For all clerical chaps with mellifluous gab. 
With a smooth, oily tongue, and a meek looking 

Are more prized by the ladies than men in the 


Oh, I wish that I'd never made rhymes about 

goats ! 
Or betrayed half the secrets our lodge-rooms 

Or divulged to the '' sisters " the way they could 

How their husbands keep flirting when out on 

the train. 
Yes, I rhymed about twins, about squallers, and 

For I hated them worse than the Kilkenny cats. 
When a man runs all day he finds little delight 


Crawling home to the kids he must dry-nurse at 

These were sorrowful thoug-hts, they influenced 

my song-, 
And my pen followed freely the stanzas along, 
As I thought of the bottle, the cradle and pair 
Of young monkeys, whose lungs could out-bellow 

a bear. 
Or a master-machinist whose tongue gets untied 
When he sees his pet engine come home on one 

When the fruits of our marriage come single 

they'll do, 
And they help to atone for our manifold sins. 
But whenever they come in installments of two. 
Heaven pity the wretch who's afflicted with 


I would like to continue this subject, but Lord ! 

How the ear-piercing screams of the imps in my 
Penetrate to my heart, till all writings abhorred. 

And my eyes are a deluge of sorrowful tears. 
In conclusion, a little advice I'll bestow : 
Shun the ladies the same as your deadliest foe ; 
Or if not, all the peace of your life they'll destroy. 
And your laughter they'll change into weeping, 
my boy. 


Be they " Sisterhood Lodges " or '^ Lady Aid " 

Individual sirens, or angels with wings. 
If you practice these precepts I'm certain you'll 


More serenity, comfort, and peace for your mind, 
Than he singing for husbands to match with the 

On a voyage in wedlock where hardship begins. 
Where the market with some is controlled by the 

'^ Bears," 
And with others 'tis '^ Bulled" by cantankerous 



They sat before a genial fire. 

Their hearts were kindled with desire. 

All trans-atlantic faces there. 

And anxious looks each one did wear. 

They peered into the growing gloom 

The shades of night spread 'round the room. 

As if the.y sought some comrade dear, 

And listened for his footsteps near. 

At last they heard the welcome sound. 

As on the walk it did resound ; 

The well-known form, in joyous song, 


Came caroling- in speed along-, 

Till in their midst stood Eory Joyce, 

The owner of the silvery voice. 

With features all aglow ! 
He was the spokesman of the band. 
He searched for news of fatherland. 
Then told it to his comrades dear, 
Who caught it in each eager ear. 

This tale of friend and foe : 

'' Oh ! hoys,'*' he said, ^^fill up each glass. 
To-night the toast must freel^^ pass ; 
I've got some glorious news to tell 
About the old land and Parnell ; 
He's sweeping- obstacles away 
From Derry's wall to Bantry Bay ; 
From shore to shore, from sea to sea. 
He says he'll make old Ireland free. 
On every hill the bon-flres blaze. 
Like erstwhile in the glorious days. 
When noble Brian led his train 
Of pikemen after fleeing Dane. 
Election's over and he's won. 
Without the aid of pike or gun, 

Or shedding- precious blood ; 
In loyal bonds each man was bound, 
And— save one dastard— all were found 


Beneath his banner, till the tide 
Of battle to our leader's side 

Came rolling' in a flood. 

" Oh ! think of all the hopeless years 
We stood our foemen's haug-hty sneers ! 
And when we sought redemption, blows 
Were given to alla^^ our woes ; 
We suffered in our slavish chains, 
The most excruciating pains ; 
We sought to burst them, but we found 
We were more tightly in them bound. 
Disunion in our ranks plowed deep ; 
Our foemen fruitful crops did reap 
Of all the patriotic men, 
Who failed to gain some secret glen. 
The gallows, block, the rack, the rope. 
Have oft extinguished Erin's hope. 

And flooded her with tears ; 
But soon again her sons would rise. 
And struggle hard to win the prize, 
Of freedom from the alien band, 
Who terrorized our native land 

For seven hundred years. 

''But, boys, the clouds are rolling by — 
I see them with prophetic eye— 
Tlie sun of freedom's glorious day 


Shall soon send forth its g-enial ray, 
Illuminating- hill and dale, 
From Antrim's heights to old Kinsale. 
From Galway's shores to Wicklow's hills, 
The sweeping" vales and babbling rills. 
The plains of choicest em'rald green, 
The rivers, gliding on serene. 
Each old, historic field and height. 
Shall soon enjoy the wished for light, 
And Irishmen shall win applause. 
By framing just and wholesome laws. 

Where statesmen, eloquent 
In all that makes a nation free. 
Uniting men fraternally, 
And legislating like the days. 
When Erin did the world amaze, 

In Grattan's parliament. 

''Now fill and drink success to all 
Who did obey our leader's call. 
And may another Christmas eve 
Behold a nation round him weave 
Her brightest garlands, may he stand 
The liberator of the land." 
As Rory ceased each man arose. 
And gave three hearty cheers for those 
Who made the latest glorious fight. 


And showed the world our cause is rig-ht, 

That union in our ranks at last 

Can win success. The ag-es past 

Have proved how brawls can wreak more woe 

Within our midst than mail-clad foe, 

Upon the tented field. 
And there on old Kentucky's soil, 
Those hardy sons of honest toil, 
Who loved this land of freedom true, 
Rejoiced that Ireland's landlord crew 

Would soon be forced to yield. 


I have mounted to Heaven on pinions of light, 
Where St. Peter and I had a confab one night. 
Talking over old times with the keenest delight, 

As the stars far beneath us did gleam. 
I have also been down to those regions below. 
Which are sadly in need of a blizzard of snow, 
W here the souls of the damned are expected to go. 

But my visits were made in a dream. 

From a thirty hours' trip t'other evening I sank 
For a snooze on the welcome soft side of a plank. 
With a big lump of coal which I took from the tank. 
For a pillow to rest my tired head. 


I was soon in a dream and with hurricane speed, 
On the back of a weird, supernatural steed, 
I arrived at a place which looked dismal, indeed. 
Where are kept in confinement the dead. 

In an instant a palsy I took in my knees. 
And my eyes at an angie of ninety degrees 
Began squinting about like a rat stealing cheese. 

And m}^ horse fled away with a moan ; 
I w^ouldgive all the wealth I e'er saw to g-et back, 
I'd be happy in snow drifts as high as the stack ; 
Oh, I suffered the tortures of gibbet or rack, 

When along came my friend Mick Malone. 

"By the piper that played before Moses," said 

"You are lucky to g-et from the clutch of ould 

And you're welcome, a thousand times welcome, 
avick ! 

To a place in the penitent gang*. 

Take a seat. Shandy, dear, on this trmik of a 

tree ; 
I'm delighted to see you, acushla machree ! 
Light your pipe, take a whiff, and then pass it 

to me, 

Formylipsareboth blistered with ^vhang\' " 


''Arrah! Micky/' said I, ''in the name of the 

What's the name of this country I'm in ? B^^ 

my word, 
'Tis a bleak looking- place, and I never 3^et heard, 

of a region so dismal before. 
With a laugh he replied, " Purgatory, my boy. 
And as bleak as it looks we have moments of joy 
That a board of directors can never destroy. 

In the manner they ground us of yore." 

'' Do you tell me so, Mick ? Faith I've heard of 

the place, 
'Tis a clime where poor souls must wipe off 

their disgrace," 
'' You are right," said my friend, blowing into 

m}^ face 
A whole mouthful of "Nigger-head" smoke. 
" You've a long time to stay, Brother Shandy," 

he cried. 
But your sentence it dates from the moment you 

You were lucky to have the good priest at your 

To redeem you from IngersoU's yoke." 

'' Am I dead, Mick " I asked. '' As a herring" 

said he, 
" Just as sure as you're sitting and talking with 



^' Well, if such is the case, I'm delighted to be 

With a comrade I truly admire. 
Mick, I prayed for your soul many times since 

the day 
That we covered your body 'neath four feet of 

When I scarcely could drag" your poor Jennie 
And I thought that she, too, would expire." 

^^Arrah, Shandy, how is my poor Jennie," he 

" Is she happy ?" '' She is ; for, my boy, she is 

To a dashing 3^oung gent, who consoles her in- 
Of a husband she sighed for like you. 

Your insurance she got and she dressed up in 
crape ; 

By the aid of cosmetics and cotton, her shape 

Would entice a poor hermit with mouth all agape. 
And the dimes she had plentiful, too." 

Mickey said not a word, but his e3^es filled with 

For he knew he was one of those soft engineers 
Whose big toes are no sooner turned up on their 

Than their wives go in search of a "mash." 


In the richest of crape on the street they parade, 

And they look with disdain on a simpering- maid, 

For they're posted in tricks of the man-catching* 


And, besides, they have plenty of cash. 

There were numerous crowds of both sexes about. 
Occupied in regrets for past actions, no doubt, 
Or, perhaps, they were watching- a chance to get 

O'er the well guarded walls of the place. 

As they sauntered along- there were many I knew; 

'Mongst the females I saw I reinembered a few. 

And they all seemed to stare in surprise at me, 


With a look of delight on each face. 

^' Can you tell me," I said, speaking gently to 

Who kept weeping away at the dastardly trick 
Which his widow played on him impatiently quick^ 

" Who is that felloAv there on the right ? " 
^' He's a pla^^boy," he said, ^^and Belisle is his 

Not a moment of peace have we had since he came, 
He's a noted disturber, and fills us with shame 

At the way he can pick up a fight." 


^^ Who are these fellows here just appearing" to 

vieAv ? " 
^' They are Barry and Garland of One-Fifty-Two, 
And a pair of sly codg-ers, between me and you," 

Said my ghostly old friend Avith a grin. 

"Who is this fellow standing abreast of us now. 

With a smile on his broad, intellectual brow ? " 

Mickey said : "He's the chap who kicked up such 

a row, 

In behalf of our widows, named Lynn." 

In a moment or two M. J. L^mn moved along, 
Soon I heard a few words of a comical song. 
And I noticed Nat Sawyer, who moved with the 

By the side of a sweet little dear. 
" Who's the lady," I said, who is walking with 

Nat ? " 
" She's a skating-rink belle, and as spr}^ as a cat. 
But old Death came along and he down on her sat, 

And soon Sawj^er caught on to her here." 

George Van Tassel strolled listlessly by with an 

Of the deepest abstraction, akin to despair, 
And the "Lives of the Saints" he perused with 
great care, 
As I judged from the look of his face. 


Peter Gibson marched next in the scope of my eye, 

He was singing a^ hymn called *^ The Sweet Bye 

and Bye/' ' 
To a band of she-angels, all ready to'fl^^ 
Far away from his saintl}^ embrace. 

" Who's that chap over there with a tear on his 

And a clerical cut to his well fitting clothes ? " 
'' 'Tis your friend, Delos Everett," said Mick : I 

From m3^ seat in the greatest surprise. 
"What's the matter?" hesaid. "Sure I thought," 

I replied, 
"From the manner he preached, that the moment 

he died 
Heaven's portals would swing to admit him inside, 
To eternal reward in the skies." 

" Behold Dutcher and Donaldson fronting us 

" Do you tell me so, Mick ? Point them out to me. 

Where ? 
Oh, begor ! now I see them, a beautiful pair 

Of New Yorkers I truly behold I " 
" Here comes Ingraham, too, and his sentence is 

Very soon he'll be poising his pinions for flight 


To a place where good souls enjoy endless delight, 
Over streets paved with ingots of gold." 

"Be in order, my Brothers/' in thunder tones 

Came a voice like a dagger-thrust piercing m^^ 

Oh, I trembled in dread, as the Grand Chief drew 

With a ponderous gavel of oak. 

"By the Lord, Mick, I'm oft'! let me bid 3^ou 

For I'd rather be down with the kid gloves in 


Billy Thompson to go for the skating-rink belle," 
And in anguish of heart I awoke. 


Order of Railway Conductors, oswego, N. Y. 

On occasions like the present. 

There's a feeling of delight. 
Radiating round my goose quill, 

As the stanzas I indite ; 
For a grand, new star has risen 

In your galax}^, and I 
Have a personal opinion, 

'Tis the brightest in 3^our sky. 


They're a band of noble fellows. 

Each one filling' nature's plan, 
And prepared to take position 

In the Brotherhood of man ; 
Uprig-ht, honest, gentlemanly, 

Faithful, steadfast, tried, and true ; 
Each one handsome as Adonis, 

When arrayed in gold and blue ! 

I have rode ahead of many, 

During long and tedious years. 
And I know they're royal fellows, 

Who admire their engineers ; 
For their " All aboard " is ready 

When the time arrives to go. 
And they cheerfully assist us 

In the sunshine or the snow. 

I have know^n them let our firemen, 

Go and ransack through the train, 
When in search of waste and tallow. 

And they never would complain ; 
For our engines here are limited 

To beggarly supplies ; 
And when stealing from the trainmen. 

They are sure to shut their eyes. 


They have Bibles in their coaches, 

Which they carefully peruse, 
They know all about the Gentiles, 

And are posted on the Jews ; 
And when female ears are willing*, 

How they pour the Scriptures in 
To the darling" little creatures, 

To avoid committing sin ! 

I have heard of some conductors 

Who have captivating smiles 
To bestow on handsome ladies. 

Riding over many miles, 
But I know it is a falsehood 

Calculated to assail 
The unblemished reputation 

Of the blue-coats of the rail. 

There was never yet an angel 

Half as virtuous in life, 
As the bo3^s in this Division, 

Each one faithful to his wife. 
There's no Brigam Young amongst them, 

Make a note you sirens all. 
When upon their trains you're riding. 

And expecting them to fall. 



They can take your whole dimensions, 

From your crimson colored nose, 
To the neatly turned ankle 

You display in silken hose ; 
And your perfumed breath in whispers 

Passes powerless through their ears ; 
They are proof against seduction, 

Try your wiles on engineers. 

Now I think I've said sufficient, 

And although 'tis written tame, 
I desired to eulogize them 

To the breezy heights of fame ; 
But my Muse she is a groundling 

That can never upward soar. 
Where I'd love to place my heroes 

'Mongst the gallant knights of yore. 

I regret not meeting Chapman 

When he made his visit here. 
They all vote him a good fellow. 

And I know they are sincere ; 
But I send him honest greeting 

Ere I drop my weary pen. 
Though I'm but a simple unit 

In the brotherhood of men. 



Have a '' Woman's Department !" God help us ! 

We've too much of petticoat rule ; 
We're crushed and caressed by the women, 

'Till each one parades as a fool. 

We have heard "womens' rig-hts" from the 

The pulpit, the press, and the pen, 

'Till we cry from our hearts full of 8,ng-uish, 

" What rights are intended for men ? " 

Have a " Woman's Department ! " I shudder 

To think how your sex would employ 
All the space we would vote you each number, 

The peace of our lives you'd destroy. 
You'd be Avriting- of Tom, Dick or Harry, 

And praising- the cut of each jib, 
'Till we'd all be your slaves, like old Adam, 

From whom you have stolen a rib. 

We have now many "Lady Divisions," 
Where sisterhood grips are the rage, 

Where the Brotherhood boys are berated 
As slow for a husband-hood age. 

We have "lady-aid" lodges and "circles," 
And "socials," and lord knows what not. 


Do you think for a Woman's Department 
A space in our Journal we've g'ot ? 

We will vote 3"0u some space in our bosoms, 

And g-ive you a place on our knees, 
Where we'll whisper the passwords and tokens 

Essential to take your degrees ; 
We will sing- you "soft nonsense" in plenty, 

And keep your eyes dancing- with joy ; 
But a Woman's Department — no, never ! 

I swear by each twin-tortured boy ! 

Had 3^ou sent us a plan or prospectus, 

Wherein 3^our intentions we'd note. 
Perhaps you'd have g-ot the department 

In spite of my negative vote. 
"Oh, acushla machree," said my mother. 

The night I marched off to be wed, 
"If you'll take my advice ^-ou'll sfca^^ snoring. 

Alone in your peaceable bed." 

Gloomy wisdom of years ! sure the poet 

Conceded he'd mystical lore 
When he sang of events which were coming. 

And casting their shadows before. 
Had I heeded the warning she gave me. 

The crow-feet of care would be light. 
And my twins, who excite you to laughter, 

Would be in oblivion to-night. 


You've a musical voice; I'm delighted 

To welcome yourself to our ranks ; 
You have taken my side ag-ainst Everett, 

For which I extend you my thanks. 
He is trying- to march with the ladies, 

Whilst you and I laug-h at the fun. 
Very soon we will hear an explosion 

Resound from a ^^breech-loading- g-un." 

In behalf of my Brothers, I thank you, 

Rig-ht here, in these lines of my song- ; 
Now the innocent boys may keep flirting- 

With women while passing- along-. 
I am g-lad my suspicions were g-roundless 

When thinking- them g"uilty of crime. 
And their wives will unite with me, madam, 

In lavishing- praise on your rhyme. 


Hurrah for Grover Cleveland ; he's the leader 
of our band. 

The Moses who we long- have soug-ht to reach 

the Promised Land, 
Where plenty smiles on ev'ry side to bless the 

wond'ring- stare 
Of those who long- have sig-hed and prayed to 

breathe its purer air. 


And, now, we're marclimg' breast to breast, in 

solid, stately tread, 
A mighty army on the move, a victor at our 

Such columns of true Democrats were never seen 

As here parade beneath the hats our honest 

fathers wore. 

Last nig-ht Oswego's streets ablaze with thous- 
ands in their pride. 

Made sluggish blood course forth anew from 
hearts long sorely tried, 

By grim defeat,in former 3^ears,but now the times 
are changed. 

For Democrats march side by side who have been 
long estranged. 

With flambeaus, flares, and oriflammes, with wild, 
hilarious cries. 

It seemed that Grover Cleveland's name did pene- 
trate the skies. 

Our voices were like breakers on Ontario's rock- 
bound shore, 

A mighty host, beneath the hats our noble fathers 

The very earth resounded with the glory of our 

Presaging that right soon Ave'd have more pure 

and wholesome laws, 


That plenty would the poor man bless, that thrift 

would rule the land, 
That idle wheels again should hum, and thieverj^ 

be banned ; 
That men have burst the galling chains which 

fettered them so long, 
That Right shall crush the viper head of that 

foul despot Wrong, 

That Cleveland will protect each man who'll 

cross Atlantic o'er 
To visit Europe 'neath the hats our good old 

fathers wore. 


I have roughed it along o'er the ocean of life, 
And I've passed its equator some time. 

'Twas a voyage so far amid turmoil and strife, 
Where the seas rolled in billows sublime ! 

I was awed by their grandeur, and longed for a 

To escape from such ve::geance awhile. 
Which would give tomeourage, a much needed 
And illume my sad face with a smile. 

Oh ! I love independence, and fain would I fight 
Till I'd gain it and live at my ease ; 


Then I'd sing- with a free and untrammell'd de- 

Just such songs as my fancy would please. 
If I found out a tyrant, whose purse-bloated heart 

Would be turned far away from the poor, 

I would flay him until his two eye-balls would 

From the place where he thinks them secure. 

There's a Siren now singing- a song at my ear, 

Where she sang it so often before, 
And I fain would such soul-stirring melody hear, 

Tho' I live its deceit to deplore ; 
Sure she sings me there's land I will shortly enjoy, 

Where the flowers in fragrance bloom, 
Where its rightful possessor will not me anno^^, 

Once he's called to reside in the tomb. 

I will surely inherit my forefathers' soil. 

And it lies underneath the green sod. 
Measures two feet by six, the reward of their toil, 

Which they got as they left for their God. 
Can a millionaire boast of an iota more. 

When his spirit is summon'd from hence ? 
He's no richer at death, tho' his coffers flow o'er, 

Than the man with a few paltry pence. 

Mausoleums right over his bones may arise. 
Obelisks may ascend in the air, 


Yes and monuments tower aloft in the skies, 
Telling- all of the dead under there ; 

But the mag-g-ots will burrow right into his bones, 
And the moths at his skull will grow fat, 

And in time down will tumble the richly carved 
Like the rim of my last summer's hat. 

Heaven send me contentment, 'tis all I will ask. 

And great riches 1 then can despise ; 
Make a labor of love of each burdensome task. 

Keep all troublesome clouds from my skies. 
I will wish for no more, and I'll sing with delight. 

Till the web of my life shall be spun, 
Till the film of death shall shut earth from my 

Ere the dawn of eternit^^'s sun. 

Mr. James Cronley. 

Old friend, I'm proud to know that fame 

Is circling 'round your honor'd name ; 

That Fortune from her treasured store. 

Has gifts to deal you out galore. 

I feel a friend's delight in all 

The luck that to your lot ma}^ fall. 


To ev'iy goal, by honor led, 

You travel with determined tread. 

No place, however hig-h you'll gain. 

But you'll through honest means attain ; 

And fill the trust with jealous care. 

For those whose wisdom placed you there. 

I've known you long, and I revere 

Your friendship, which I found sincere. 

The years are rolling onward now. 

We've silver threads strew 'd o'er each brow 

On life's rough sea we're half wa}^ o'er. 

And nearing fast the farther shore ; 

But, Jim, our bark of life may glide, 

Adown Time's steady ebbing tide. 

We yet i)erchance ma^^ meet with shocks 

From breakers, reefs, and sunken rocks ; 

But always at the mast-head high. 

True colors you will bravel3" fly. 

And ever keep them there sincere^- 

You are no changeful privateer — 

But like the line-of-battle ship. 

Your cable you will freel^^ slip. 

To fight till you've the prize in tow. 

And never strike a fallen foe. 

A trenchant pen ,you well can wield. 

And in the journalistic field 

You've nobly won deserv'd applause, 


In ev'ry g-ood and worthy cause. 
You're climbing- to the breezy heig-ht 
Where I admire you with dehg-ht, 
Because I know you're tried and true, 
And fame can make no change in you. 
Oh ! may your star ascendent rise, 
Until its brightness dim the eyes 
Of those who are with envy green, 
Since o'er their heads 'tis plainly seen. 
Accept these lines sincerely penn'd 
From one whom you have long time kenn'd. 
No need to write a sentence more, 
I'd but repeat things said before. 


By your leave, my worthy masters, 

I've a word or two to say 
Ere I step upon the foot-board, 

On my toilsome trip to-day. 
I arise with humble bearing 

To address the powers that be, 
Who have caused such tribulation 

To all smokers, such as me. 


Long- before the beard of manhood 

Blest the scrutinizing stare 
Of my many wistful g-lances 

To detect a coming- hair, 
I could whiff ni}^ granny's dudeen 

With as comical a lip 
As a passeng-er conductor 

When he takes his maiden trip. 

Those were years now scarce remembered 

In the dim and misty past, 
And since then my smoking- habit 

In my nature's anchored fast. 
'Twill be difficult to conquer 

Such an appetite I fear. 
And before my pipe is mastered 

I will weep in grief sincere. 

It has been a loved companion, 

And as cherished as my bride 
When the bloom of youth shone on her, 

As she nestled at my side ; 
And tho' now 'tis black and burned, 

'Tis as cherished as of yore. 
Like the lov'd one who's still reigning' 

In my bosom's inmost core. 


In the many revolutions 

We have witnessed on the rail, 
It administered consolation 

Which was never known to fail ; 
And wlien things were working- badly 

On the old mill we bestrode, 
It dispelled, in clouds of incense, 

All the troubles of the road. 

When the pay car seemed to loiter, 

It grew wheezy, rank and strong ; 
As if something surely whispered 

That affairs were going wrong. 
But when once I'd sign the pay-roll 

'Twas transformed to delight ; 
Like an old maid's face when beaming- 

On the long-sought wedding night. 

But messieurs, you are the masters. 

And, of course, you have the brains. 
While the nerves old Nature gave us. 

To successful run the trains ; 
So Ave yield you strict obedience. 

No infraction shall you find. 
From to-day henceforth no smoking 

When on duty — in my mind. 



Come, boys, fill your g-lasses, and pledge me to- 

To the hopes which we sigh for, each long sought 

Let the nectar run freely, the liquid o'erflow, 
We will drink to the dregs ere we rise, bo,ys, to go. 
Here's success to the standard that's gloriously 


On the field where the foemen retreat from the 

green ! 
Where the chains of oppression, which bound us 

so long. 
Shall be sunder'd by freemen who right every 


During centuries Slavery's curse on the land. 
Kept us bound in her shackles, close tied was each 

hand ; 
In our councils divided, we struggled in vain ; 
We were conquer'd and beaten again and again ; 
But the clouds of dissension are drifting away. 
And the sun o'er the hill-tops of freedom's fair 

Is most surely ascending, its beams we can tell ; 
And our armies are marching with statesman 



Our clear forefathers bore every brunt of the 
fray ; 

And their mail-clad opponents they oft drove 
away ; 

Many fields can attest what their valor has won, 
When each one had a pike, and each foeman a 

'Gainst the science of war and artillery's roar 
They would charge till they'd sink into rivers of 
gore ; 

Till the plain would be strewed with the dying 
and dead, 

And the green flag be floating high over the red ! 

Now in our day the battle once more is renewed. 
We will fight till the last haughty foe is subdued. 
All our weapons are modern instruments made ; 
To be used in the senate, where parties arrayed. 
Will be sure to respect us, and hearken to those 
Who are flaunting the green in the face of their 

So, my boys, fill each glass, let us drink with the 

Of our fierce *faugh-a-ballagh for statesman Par- 
nell ! ' 

*Clear the way. 



They are comiag", boys, they're coming"; 

I discovered one to-day ; 
'Tis a tawny looking- stranger, 

And I fear it comes to stay ; 
On my upper lip, disgusted, 

I espied youth's dreaded foe. 
In the spot the ladies lingered, 

When they kissed me long ago ! 

'Tis a signal on life's railroad. 

Like the caution flags we spy. 
When the trackmen fear fast running 

May displace a rail or tie ; 
And it tells in tones of warning 

That old Time is jogging on 
To the great, unknown hereafter. 

Where earth's multitudes have gone. 

'Tis a mystery what brought it ; 

I am not so very old ; 
Scarcely in the '^ roaring forties." 

I suppose the heat and cold 
Of our slavish occupation. 

At all seasons of the 3^ear, 
Hurried on the grinning rascal 

That comes prematurely here. 


Or perhaps it conies from watching- 

Too intently at the gaug-e, 
When the pointer travels backward 

And each moment seems an ag-e, 
Trying- hard to make a meeting- 

With the ^^ flyer," nearly due, 
As the water in a torrent 

Courses out of every flue. 

There's another cause suspected, 

Which I'll tell in sober sooth : 
I was somewhat of an ang'el 

In the halcyon days of j^outh ! 
And I ling-ered in the temple. 

Where I prayed and fasted long-. 
Laying' treasures up in heaven 

And avoiding- doing- wrong. 

But where'er it came from, surely 

It is here upon my lip. 
In the place the sirens dallied 

All those honied joys to sip. 
That have ravished soul and senses 

With such keen, ecstatic bliss. 
Many twilights spent in rapture. 

Tasting beauty's luscious kiss ! 



Oh, dear Ponce de Leon, tell me, 

From your dwelling- in the sky, 
Where's the fountain which you soug-ht for ? 

Are its waters sealed or dry ? 
If your search was not rewarded 

When in life you sought its brink. 
Now perhaps your clearer vision 

Can direct me where to drink. 

I will lave upon its bosom 

Till the wine of life shall course 
Through my heart and brain delighted. 

In its glorious, youthful force. 
Till all ills and aches shall vanish. 

And the clouds of care roll by. 
Till the sun shall shine resplendent 

From a clear, ethereal sky. 

I am but a simple rhymer. 

Yet I have a poet's heart. 
And, if words w^ould come for calling, 

I'd a lesson here impart 
To all coming generations, 

Calling loudly to beware 
Of those heart-regrets to haunt them, 

When they spy the first gray hair. 



To W. B. Phelps. 

Dear Sir : — My humble thanks I send 

To you, my much esteemed, old friend, 

Who did my appetite allay. 

With turkey roast this Christmas day. 

Indeed he was a royal bird, 

As e'er among-st his kind was heard 

With gobble, strut and chuckle loud. 

The king of all the feathered crowd, 

His flesh was juicy, tender, sweet. 

And brittle, so a babe could' eat. 

When I beheld him cooked and browned. 

With smiling faces seated round 

The festive board, I felt the thrill 

Of gratitude, carousing still. 

Within m^^ thankful breast ; 
With knife and fork I carved him quick, 
I severed ev'ry steak as slick 
As though a surgeon's scalpel, keen. 
Flashed thro' his parts, both fat and lean. 

Then dined with eager zest. 

Of all the daj^s throughout the year 
To bring us hope, our hearts to cheer. 
To-day stands first, for friends unite. 
In festive mirth and pure delight. 


And when the wassail bowl is full 

The hrain must be extremely dull 
That will not soar above the ground 
To heig-hts where social joy is found. 
No monarch, on his throne of state, 
Surrounded by the rich and great. 
Could look with hautier disdain 
On all the ills in sorrow's train 
Than I, when e'er the flowing glass 
From friend to friend would freely pass, 

With fellowship of song ; 
It can inspire the dullest clod 
That ever groveled on the sod. 
And make him feel himself a king. 
With fancies floating on the wing, 

Through airy heights along. 

But here I am, a noted foe 

To Bacchus, and the ruddy glow 

Of sparkling wine, wiiich bubbles bright. 

Around the board on Christmas night. 

Yet mem'ries of the olden time 

Will float and mingle in my rhyme. 

Until I feel a dancing train 

Of glees ome fancies in my brain. 

Perhaps your king of table fowl 

Dispelled Time's sable, monkish cowl, 

Shandy maguire. 373 

And let the g-low of pleasure g-lide 
Around my heart's quiescent tide, 
Until the years rolled with me back 
To youth's delig-htful, festive track, 

And changed me to a boy. 
Let morahsts, in sober sooth. 
Condemn the primrose path of youth ; 
I'd rather know I laug-hed at care 
With hearthy, boon companions there. 

Than not have known it's joy. 

I'm one among-st the very few 
Who've seen the good you slyly do ; 
For, like a thief disguised you steal, 
Distributing to other's weal. 
Your generous heart would fain embrace 
Within its bounds the human race ; 
You preach a universal creed. 
And practice it in word and deed, 
You'll cling to friends through good and ill. 
And be their benefactor still. 
It matters not where'er the clime 
They first stepped on the stage of time, 
Or if their skin be black as night. 
Or olive, or Caucassian white. 
To you it is the same. 
The friendly heart and hand are there. 


To deal them out, as free as air, 
Remembrances of kindness dear, 
And this is why we all revere 

Your noble, honored name. 

God bless the good old Christmas time, 

I trul3^ pi'ay, in simple rhyme ! 

And bless the kindness which bestowed 

The thoug-htf ul g-ift on my abode ; 

And bless the day when tables groan 

With plenty, on this changeful zone. 

And may the years, with tardy tread, 

Pass captivating o'er your head. 

And when from hence j^ou're called away, 

May Hope's illuminating ray 

Assist your footsteps to explore 

The pathway to the other shore ; 

But, sure as are the Scripture's just, 

You may go mingle with tlie dust. 

With heavenly joys in view ; 
I'll cheerfullj^ submit to Fate, 
If in that certain, future state, 
I'll pass the dreadful muster roll. 
Of Him who'll judge my sinful soul. 

Successfully as you. 



'Mid the sweltering rays of the mid-day sun 

I am here in the cab, while on flying* wheels 
I must make my long* and my tedious run, 

Ere the lengthened ray of the evening steals 
Down o'er the track with its cooling shade, 

To soothe the nerves that I oft must strain, 
And I sigh as I think of the leafy glade 

Where the rich are hound who are on the train. 

Ah, yes, they are off to their cool retreats, 

To their wealthy homes by the sounding sea. 
Where their fare consists of the choicest meats. 

With vintage rare as rich wines can be ; 
Where Fortune deals from her lavish hand 

The luckiest cards within her pack. 
And woos them along with smiling bland. 

Till the autumn breezes drive them back. 

What wonder at all if I ponder o'er 

The thousand ills of the luckless poor. 
Who must toil 'mid the smoke and ceaseless roar 

Of the daily load which our frames endure ? 
And our fare consists of a crust of bread, 

To be moistened oft amid falling tears. 
Ere we sink to rest on a thorny bed. 

For a few short hours till the dawn appears. 


God pit}^ us all on the road of life, 

We need His help to prolong- the fight 
We are forced to make in the daily strife, 

As we humbly plod on our path of rig-ht ; 
And if by a step we pass its hounds, 

What a cry is raised hy the heartless throng*, 
Who unleash their pack of bloodthirsty hounds 

To disjoint our bones for a simple Avrong*. 

A flowery path o'er life's hig-hway, sure. 

The rich ones And who inherit wealth ; 
They may glide amid gilded crime secure 

In the sun's bright ray or in midnight stealth ; 
But the poor man toils like the veriest slave. 

At his daily task, in all sorts of weather. 
On his lowly road which ends at the grave. 

To keep his body and soul together. 

Sweet hope is unsubstantial food. 

But for it where would we be to-day ? 
Discouraging thoughts that dare intrude. 

Are by its influence driven away. 
The crooks and thorns we daily meet 

Along the route we are forced to tread, 
May lead in a year to some cool retreat, 

Where we'll lie at ease on a downy bed. 



From the moment 3^0 ur feet press the earth to 

Your roug-h march to the g-rave, in this world's 

g-reat din, 
You will find many stumbling- blocks thrown in 

your way, 
And your armor will often be pierced in the fray. 
It will take all your skill to avoid the rude shocks 

You will meet on the road against venomous 

But the rudest of all you encounter will frown 
From the ape-featured crew in your own native 


You may have in your bosom a heart beating true 
With ennoblingintentions,butthey '11 misconstrue 
Every effort ^'^ou'll make, as 3^ou labor for rig-ht, 
And the^^'ll poison the air worse than vapors of 

nig-ht ; 
They will fling their insidious stabs at your back, 
Just like cowardly assassins,the rancorous pack ; 
They will scoff and deride you and kick you when 

With unmerciful ire, in your own darling town. 

If you'll pause and reflect you will easily note 
How those dear ones can tell ev'ry patch on your 
coat ; 


Where the meagre purse presses, how hills are 

unpaid ; 
How 3^our creditors claim you take profit from 

trade ; 

How your face, thoug-h with honesty stamped, is 
a mask ; 

How your labors of love are a burdensome task ; 
All the good you've erected will soon be pulled 

By the midge-hearted clan, in your own native 


When you're weighed ^^ou're found wanting, 

they'll burden the scales 
With foul hints, told suspicious, rank, gossiping 

Sure they fanc^niiankind all have hearts like their 

It is thus you are gauged, and your bosom must 

If you clamber above them, and heed what they 

You will soon be unnerved, and unfit for the fray ; 
But if brave and determined, by heaven, each 

May assail you in vain in your own darling town ! 

If 3^ou've tact, and ambition, and brains you can 


From their level with ease, and get nearer the 

skies ; 
If you've nerve for the battle,a heart for the strife, 
You will surely succeed on the highway of life ; 
If you've genius, tho' humble, men mention your 

And it gives you a pull at the goblet of fame. 
You will float where j^our filthy detractors will 

And you'll win some applause in your own native 


Let the buzzards and owls croak in envious mood, 
There is jo}^ on the wing as you fly from the brood ; 
They are powerless to follow, you laugh at the 
fun ; 

Their attacks are like boys throwing stones at the 

Every man has a mission, fill yours wlnle you 

And if guided by honor, ^^ou'll bask in the ray 
That will shine in eft'ulgence, and lead to renown. 
And defeat of your foes in your own native town. 



A Passenger Who Assisted in Rescuing an Engineer From Under 
His Wrecked Engine. 

Were mine the pen to flash the flre 

Of brilliant thoughts these lines along-, 
Or wake the grand, heroic lyre, 

In strains of rich, melodious song ; 
I'd sing 3'our noble deeds on high. 

Beyond the reach of fleeting fame, 
Until my voice would reach the sky. 

To eulogize your laurelled name. 

Oh, lady ! 'tis such acts can shine 

And brighten up this vale of tears, 
When gentle hands and hearts combine 

To soothe poor suff'ring engineers. 
We stand the first to meet the crash ; 

Our duty is to save the train. 
And oft with speed of lightning's flash 

We're crushed, dismember'd, scorched or slain. 

In silken robes, with jewels bright, 

And both your lovely arms bare. 
You stood beside poor, d^ing Knight, 

And proved a minist'ring angel there. 
The fleeting spark of life you fanned, 

Until you felt reviving breath ; 


It was your gentle, skillful hand 

That rescued him from painful death. 

Kipe, luscious fruit you kindly send, 

The choicest flowers deck his room, 
Tho' distant, still you prove his friend. 

And waft around him sweet perfume. 
TJie Shelleys and the Nig-hting-ales 

Of lasting fame, you'll stand beside. 
Who can assuage the human wails 

They hear upon life's stormy tide. 

He's lying now with broken bones. 

And reason gone, within his cot ; 
Unheard are wife's and children's moans. 

The past, the present, all forgot. 
If back to Reason's throne once more 

His mind returns and pauses there, 
From out his brave heart's inmost core. 

He'll bless you with a hero's prayer. 

If death makes all your efforts vain, 
And ends the life you sought to save. 

The engineer of every train 

Who'll stand above his lowly grave 

Shall testify in grand acclaim. 
And echo shall prolong the notes. 


Till tributes to your honored name 
Arise from twenty thousand throats ! 

May life he one continued round 

Of joyful scenes, 'mid prospects fair. 
To you, whose hrow^ is laurel crowned. 

We cry in earnest, heartfelt prayer. 
And w^hen eternal dawn is nigh. 

As you did here to others do, 
May He who rules beyond the sky. 

Dear lady, do the same to you. 


Each vein is full of liquid fire. 
And every nerve in veng-eful ire 
Keeps bounding" with a keen desire 

To kill me quick ; 
I cannot get a moment's rest ; 
My very vitals are distrest ; 
My patience gets a painful test. 

Oh, Lord, I'm sick ! 

If every ill the flesh can feel 
Combined to make my senses reel, 
Neuralgia, you are just the chiel 
To beat them all • 


You're thumping- me with mig'hty blows, 
You pound me from my head to toes ; 
The tears now coursing down my nose 
Like rivers fall. 

My eyes oft from their sockets start, 
My teeth seem pulling" all apart, 
There is a feeling* round my heart 

I can't describe ; 
My curse upon yourself and kin — 
But if at cursing I begin 
'Twill last till hell I plunge you in. 

And all your tribe. 


My dear Alderman Benz, it surprised me to note, 
How a man of your standing, good judgment 
and tact. 
Should be found with your fingers clutched into 
the throat 
Of all roads, if the council endorses your act. 
'Tis a sleepy old gait for an engine to run. 
And you know in your heart every railroader 
Does the best that he can all those mishaps to shun 
That are put to the charge of the poor engineer. 


'Twill drive enterprise out of this tax-ridden 
place ; 
And we ha ven't a surplus to boast of you, know ; 
In the summer time g-rass on our streets 3'^ou can 
And in winter huge hummocks of unsullied 
Manufacturers never were lured by the bait 
Of "our splendid location for business," be- 
On account of hig-h taxes the}^ will not locate, 
And, besides, they've a dread of our iron- 
bound laws. 

When the Welland canal was enlarg-ed we sup- 
That bi^ fleets from the west at our wharves 
would be seen ; 
But, alas ! from that time until now we reposed 
Undisturbed by increase of our merchant ma- 
Elevators are sinking- to speedy decay. 

Where the rats and the sparrows their timbers 
devour ; 
Soon the railroads will go just the very same way. 
If you limit our speed down to four miles an 

Samuel Sloan, with his well equipped roads, has 
done more 


For Osweg-o than all the canals in the land ; 
Go with Corporal Phelps down about the lake 

Where he'll point to the proof with his fig-ures 
in hand ; 

Every month* as the paymaster g-oes on his trip, 
' Tis United States coin which his wallet contains; 
It will purchase more flour and potatoes than 

For the men who must toil with their sinews 
and brains. 

Now reflect on the foregoing- facts which I give 
To you here in this paper in shape of a song- ; 

Let us foster the railroads and help them to live, 
Which they will, if with prudence we help them 

As a city official you've always been found 

On the side where you wielded g-ood sensible 
power ; 

Do not mar your past record by girding* us 'round 

With a mud turtle movement of four miles an 




Off to church I went last Sunday 

In a rather g-loomy mood, 
I am not a firm believer, 

And I seldom there intrude, 
Yet I like to hear a sermon 

Where impassioned words do play 
In an eloquent connection, 

Be the subject Avhat it may. 
But the speaker, to affect me. 

Must be pious and sincere. 
And stand forth a true example 

Of the words which strike my ear; 
For I look behind the subject, 

And I closely view the man, 
As I'm doing" here at present. 

This is how the sermon ran : 
"From the mountains and the valleys. 

From the deserts, and each plain. 
From the seas, the lakes and oceans, 

There shall march a countless train. 
From the birth of time the^^'ll rally 

To the trumpet's clarion call. 
As it thunders o'er the world : 

'Come to judgment one and all.' 
How the guilty wretch shall totter 


In the deepest of dismay ! " 
It was thus a theolog-ian 

Preached so eloquent that day, 
And I thoug-ht as he expounded 

Texts of Scripture so devout 
He is sure to be an ang-el 

When the dead shall g-et the rout, 
And to glory everlasting- 
He can see his title clear ; 
If he can, dear sinful reader. 

You and I need never fear. 
I have heard of reverend ranters 

Who could point us out the road, 
Where the gauge is rather narrow 

Leading to that blest abode. 
Ah ! how fluently they tell us 

Of the joys beyond the grave 
And what sacrifices daily 

We should make, our souls to save ; 
But when Death would hover near them 

Some physician would be called. 
To exert his skill and save them. 

As thej^'d writhe in fear appalled; 
How they dread to go to glory 

That they've preached about for j^ears. 
And they die like craven cowards, 

'Tis not so with engineers. 


There are hundreds of exceptions 

To that class of hah^-brained fools, 
Who are pious theolog-ians, 

Who were taught in lib'ral schools ; 
And they lead their cong-reg"ations 

Up Mount Pisg-ahs of the earth, 
'Till the glorious Land of Promise 

Dawns in full, celestial birth ! 
To no sect nor creed they're wedded, 

To no dogmas bound in chains ; 
But upon broad Christian tenets 

The3^ employ prolific brains ; 
I respect them, the}^ are sages. 

And I'll follow where they tread; 
All my caustic written notions 

Have been pointed at each head 
Of the hypocritic swaddlers. 

Who enjoy this life below. 
And keep preaching of the future 

Where they ne'er expect to go. 
If to live in full and plenty, 

And to sleep on beds of down, 
Is the trunk-line up to Heaven 

They are sure of glory's crown. 
If to toil with brain and sinew 

'Till the heart-strings nearly crack, 
Running daily on an engine, 


Over old. and worn-out track ; 
When the driving'-spring-s are flattened, 

And the pistons blowmg- strong-, 
And the flues are leaking badly, 

And the valves are beating wrong, 
And the pumps are out of order, 

And the boxes full of smoke. 
And the rods all thumping loudly, 

Every time she makes a stroke — 
If such things torment us daily 

While on earth in g-rief we dwell, 
I have hopes, dear, patient reader. 

That we'll not be switched for hell. 

In the foremost ranks of danger. 

We are daily forced to tread ; 
And our firemen stand beside us, 

As we battle for our bread ; 
We ne'er shirk the post of duty, 

Altho' Death keeps closely by. 
For, full conscious of our peril. 

We can resolutety die. 
I disclaim all idle boasting 

We have heros in the tomb. 
Whom the public know were martyrs, 

Ere their youth had lost its bloom. 
Show me 'mongst the ranks of labor 


Such a roll-call of the brave, 
As the eng-iiieers and firemen 
Who sleep in the hero's g-rave ! 

Hark ! I hear the "caller " coming" 
And the crimson streaks of da^^, 

Shooting- up athwart the heavens, 
Tell 'tis time to g-o away. 


Written after Reading his Poem on the " Book Agent." 

Reverend Sir : 

'Twill surprise you these lines to peruse, 

Which I wrote after reading- the song- of your 

What a tormenting" time the book agent should 

As you studied j^our sermon alone in your room. 
Oh ! I thoug-ht : were I there in that clerg-yman's 

I would hammer some texts on the book ag-ent's 


Which the public could read for the g-ood of man- 

From the "Last Publication," more fierce than 


Take the man who has patience sufficient to hear 
A g-Ub canvasser's tong-ue, as it wag's at his ear. . 
He may truly lay claim to salvation and say, 
"Sure the Lord in His mercy has tried me to-day ; 
For He sent me a tempter like Satan of 3^ore, 
In the guise of a man with a plentiful store 
Of persuasion, and I kept my patience secure 
'Till "I bowed out" the tempter away from my 

Well, the ''he-ones" are bad when they come 
with their books, 

But the ''she-devil's" worse with her man-kill- 
ing looks. 

With her smirks and her smiles, and her artful 
complaints ; 

And a tale made to draw forth compassion from 

With her wiles stealing- 'round, sweet as May- 
morning dew. 

Or those spice ^ales that blow in the vales of 
Peru ; 

It is then you require a "John Sulhvan " blow 

That shall drive her away with a thundering- 


There are many things "tucked by translators" 
in creeds, 

But the man who can list to a book ai^ent's needs 


For an hour, and not kick him out into the street, 
Is a canonized saint from his head to his feet ; 
Oh, I hope you are such, and I love to peruse 
Every flash from the pen of your eloquent Muse. 
And I hope you will not deem my freedom a 

When I g-reet you, dear sir, as a brother in rhyme. 


I'm afflicted with ills of the flesh, boys. 

And I'll share my misfortune with you ; 
They are stripes from humanity's lash, boys. 

Only shunned b}^ the virtuous few. 
Saints are scarce on the railroad to-day, boys. 

From the president down to the chap 
Who is flag-g-ing" for very poor pay, boys. 

With his hair sticking out through his cap. 

I've a rheumatic twinge in my t©es, boys. 

And a kink in the small of my back ; 
They are sure to disturb my repose, bo^^s. 

When in bed or when out on the track. 
I have feasted on quail and on toast, boys. 

From my grub-bucket daily for years ; 
Sure I don't know of men who can boast, boys, 

Of such feeding unless engineers. 


Our conductors have napkins and rings, hoys, 

Silver knives, forks and spoons, and choice 
plate ; 
Sure we scoff at such fanciful things, boys, 

As we dine on our engines in state. 
With our fingers and thumbs we can throw, boys, 

A square meal down our throats pretty quick, 
It was thus Adam feasted, you know, boys. 

Before Eve made a ^^mash" on old Nick. 

Of high living I'd have you keep clear, boys. 

It is loaded with numerous ills ; 
And besides, shun the schooner of beer, bo3^s. 

Yes, and worm- juice flowing through stills. 
They are stumbling blocks spread for your feet, 

Like the smiles of a widow through tears. 
Every one of them full of deceit, boys. 

And a trap to catch poor engineers. 

I intended a moral to write, boys, 

'Till the widows ran into my head, 
So I think I'll set brakes for to-night, boys. 

And retire to my virtuous bed. 
Ere the morrow's bright sun shall arise, boys, 

I must up and have at it again. 
For, no matter how stormy the skies, bo3^s, 

I'll be called to depart with my train. 


Ye Gods ! beliolcl this liandsome crowd 
So self -conceited, vain and proud, 
Who pose before the artist's eye 
Beneath a g'ra^^, October sky ! 
They're frizzed, and combed, in Sunday style. 
While some men frown and others smile. 
But Nagie's photog-raphic art 
Shall beauty to each face impart. 

He tries to get them in repose, 
He twists each chin, surveys each nose. 
Until he has the " awkward squad " 
All grouped upon the verdant sod. 
And, now, as each one looks so grand. 
When polished by some barber's hand, 
I'll take a pencil picture, too. 
Of ev'ry face I see in view. 

See Rowan, on the left who sits. 

To flank the crowd of sports and wits, 

And at his side I plainly trace 

The handsome phiz of Patrick Grace. 

See honest Paddy sitting there 

With grizzled beard and unkempt hair. 

The next is P. F. Johnson's form. 

Whom all admire with feelings warm. 


Bob Gettings, from the barber's hand, 
Looks sleek, and smooth, with features bland, 
And at his side the piercing eye 
Of Dennis Connelly I spy. 
** Judg-e " Glynn behold, he sits at ease. 
The artist's glance he's sure to please. 
See Crawford, self-possessed and proud. 
The valiant ^^ jumbo " of the crowd. 

Sweet William Grant your head hold down. 

Do not on old companions frown. 

Brave Gill, who never missed a fight 

In Union wars, is on your right. 

Note Tim McCarthy in life's prime 

Near Fennell, author of this rhyme. 

See Dorsey, too, the ladies' joy, 

A good, straight-forward, handsome hoy. 

Behold Omelia standing there. 

Behind Commiss'ner Grace's chair. 

See Hanley from the Second ward 

Whose head with good sound sense is stored. 

There's Chris, an angel in disguise. 

Whose look expresses pain'd surprise. 

Jack Sculley's last, he bears his w^eight 

On Grant, which makes him stand so straight. 


Well, here we are, and seventeen 

More jovial lads were seldom seen ; 

All cast in Nature's stalwart mold, 

And prized for strength far more than gold. 

Upon the rugged road of life 

We win our bread, 'mid toil and strife. 

And thankful all for robust health, 

Which is our only source of wealth. 

Perhaps my boys, in after years, 

When Time shall change our smiles to tears, 

When we'll be wrinkled, old and gray, 

These pictures shall recall the day 

We met, in manhood's strength and pride, 

With joke and jest, on ev'ry side. 

To let the artist group us all. 

Outside Oswego's City Hall. 


While perusing the papers last evening, I read 
Of a deeply laid plan to deprive men of bread ; 
'Tis ingenious indeed, I must freel,y confess. 
And may make b^^ perversion a deal of distress 
'Mongst the ranks of the toilers all over the land ; 
If their tongues run unguarded, their doom is at 


I supposed that by blacklisting- those who rebel, 
Was a torture on earth to prepare men for hell. 

More refined in their cruelty daily they grow ; 
With their scorpion whips they afflict men with 

In the shape of detectives to follow them round, 
So their masters may know where disturbers are 


In the lodge room they'll mingle and talk with 

the boys. 
And by oily persuasion enlarge on those joys 
To be had for the seeking, beyond their desires ; 
Then betray them like erstwhile the Mollie 


If such tactics increase with the growth of the 

Sure the Lord only knows what we poor engineers 
Must all do for a living ; I fear we will starve. 
If a plan can't be found airy nothings to carve ! 
And a dish of wind-pudding contrived from our 


To protect us from hunger and save us from 

Oh ! if such is discovered we'll chorus in glee 

Without fear of starvation, for water is free ! 


Listen, boys ; I've an antidote here for your ills, 
You will find it far safer than powder or pills : 
Keep your tong-ues in your cheeks, do not dare let 

them wag- ; 
Should that fail, in each mouth stuff a close-fitting' 

If you do, you'll have nothing to fear boys,because 
There's no danger at all from our rules or our 

Unless grossly perverted by those who'd destroy 
The best organization in railroad emplo3^ 

We shall always be faithful to men whom we 

From the strict line of dut^^ we never shall swerve. 
We are true to their interests, give them our lives, 
Never thinking of dear ones, our children and 

When the martyrs to dut}^ are called from the 

Engineers will be first in the ranks of the brave. 
With their firemen beside them they'll march to 

the fore. 
Where eternal reward will be theirs evermore. 


Come, my boys, the decanter fill full till we drink 
A few toasts here to-night, let our hearts never 

For in wine there is pleasure, let lunatics bawl 
About poison therein, to the de'il with them all. 
Every man fill his g-lass till the beads bubble o'er. 
We will drink it to-night, and we drank it before. 
Get youready,clasps hands with a hearty hurrah. 
Now the toast ! " Here's success to you Erin-go- 


They are drained ! Let us fill them to flowing 

Till we pledge in full bumpers the brave-hearted 

Who defy every dungeon, the scaffold, and block. 
And can fight for her freedom, with hearts like 

the rock. 
Who are trying to burst every link of the chain 
That is binding her limbs and is causing her pain. 
Now the toast ! drink it standing, the chorus shall 

Here's to all who are with you, dear leader, Par- 


Fill once more while we're sober, although 'tis 

the last 
Till again we assemble to talk of the past ; 


And to plan for the future, as true men should do. 
Who've a country to wrench from a despotic 

See ! the sun is just rising- far off in the east. 
He will soon shed his beams on our wine-drinking" 

feast ; 
Now,my hoys, stand in order,drink freely to those 
Who will never g*ive up till wecono[uer our foes. 


Railroading on the B. U. L. 

"Wake up from sleep" the caller said, 
I quickly hounded out of bed, 
A stupid feeling- in my head. 

When roused in such a fury ; 
I thoug-ht I scarcel}^ closed my eyes. 
He routed me in such surprise. 
I'll curse him till the day he dies. 

In spite of judg-e or jury. 

Three hundred miles my aching- back 
Was bounded o'er uneven track; 
My stiffened joints were fit to crack. 
From such a constant motion. 
I suffered more than tong-ue can tell, 


Far worse than imps confined in — well 
We rolled about in every swell, 
Like ships upon the ocean. 

My brothers, in a sunny clime. 

Who read this simple, truthful rhyme. 

You little know the awful time 

We have in frosty weather ; 
We blow our fingers and our thumbs 
To keep them warm, we dine on crumbs. 
Or g-rub dished up in boarding slums, 

Where dozens hive together. 

In drifts of snow we nearly freeze. 
Exposed to ev'ry cutting breeze ; 
The glass tells twenty-five degrees 

Below what men call "zero." 
Our noses have a hazy hue — 
A most repulsive looking blue — 
Besides, our whole official crew. 

Have hearts as hard as Nero. 

They drive us out when needing sleep, 
A harvest for themselves to reap ; 
Because they get our labor cheap. 
And pay in scrip quite often. 
The rails are only half way tied, 



The joints apart are opened wide, 
'Tis certain death for men to ride 

When Spring" embankments soften. 

My heart would bound with honest joy, 
If I could find some good employ, 
Where callers never would annoy 

A man from night till morning ; 
And where no snow-drifts would be seen, 
Where fields would wear perennial green. 
And skies would always look serene. 

Our lives in joy adorning. 

Perhaps good luck I yet may meet, 
And get away from snow and sleet. 
To some choice clime where tranquil heat 

To railroad men is given ; 
The only place I'm sure to find 
A climate, suited to my mind, 
Where evermore I'll feel resigned. 

Is up with God in Heaven. 



Miss(?) Kittie Blaine— perhaps the "Miss" 

Is not the proper thing to write, 
Yet, in a dream of perfect bhss, 

I'll fancy you a maid to-night — 
Your lines upon the engineer 
Are truthful, musical, sincere, 
And I, an humble rhyming chap. 
Now doff to you my greasy cap. 
In heartfelt thanks for such a song 
As you so kindly sent along. 
To cheer us up, and drive despair 
Away from hearts consumed by care. 
We've all been cooped in cabs for years, 
Like hens, when house-wives have their fears 
That neighbor's stones may thin the brood 
Of scratching thieves, when seeking food. 
In summer, winter, spring and fall, 
We must respond to duty's call. 
We're blanched and beaten by the blast, 
Our blooming cheeks are fading fast. 
We're friendless, save yourself, I find 
Your sex are silent or unkind ; 
They never send a word along 
To cheer us up, much less a song. 
But now we will enthrone you queen 


Of all the bo3^s throug-hout the land. 
Where e'er a smoky phiz is seen 
A heart is there at your command. 

If my rheumatic harp could sing- 
Such music as your gifted lyre, 
I'd make the hills and valleys ring 

Our thanks in true, poetic fire. 
In numbers we're an army now, 
With hero stamped on every brow. 
For you have proved it in your song-. 
And, madam, you have told no wrong ; 
Indeed we know you were sincere 
When writing on the engineer. 
Suppose we enter partnership, 
And cruise upon a rhyming trip ; 
I'll pass the work rough-hewn to you, 
Your daintj^ fing-ers soon can do 
The pruning, trimming, weeding out, 
Of vulgar words I strew about ; 
I'll tell you of our daily joys — 
The pleasures surfeiting- the boys — 
The grandeur of the scenes we pass, 
Until they seem a moving mass. 
Parading ~f or our special sight. 
On cloudless day and fogless nig-ht. 
Then you can weave a song-boquet, 


And sing" it to the brothers all ; 
While I can bask in beauty's ray, 
A willing- slave who loves the thrall ! 

Please g-ive me your attention now, 
Sweet songstress! and don't think me rude, 

Nor cloud your genius-crested brow. 
If I offensively intrude 

By making some inquiries, so 

I'll ascertain how far to go 

In my expressions as I rhyme 

The thanks of men you've sung sublime. 

Now, tell — oh, dear ! I'm so afraid — 

Please mention if you are a maid ? 

If so, by mighty Jove ! I swear, 

You're launched on life with prospects fair. 

And soon shall find a dear one, true. 

Who'll more than brother be to you ; 

Who'll press on your melodious lips 

Delights that other joys eclipse. 

Perhaps you are a faithful wife. 

And coupled up to one for life. 

Who, like myself, toils ev'ry day 

For pleasure, disreg-arding* pay ; 

If so you are a happy spouse. 

And mistress of some cozy house. 

If you a blooming" widow be — 


My stars ! How impudent of me, 
To sneak Paul Prying", but, if so, 
I do respect your weeds and woe ! 
For widows who've been sore distrest 
I have a soft spot 'neath my vest ! 
Some dear departed boys I've laid 
Beneath the sod, and often praj^ed 
With all their poor heart-broken wives. 
For God to g-uard their lonely lives. 
Some other chaps have done the same. 
Successful too ! and '' blocked my game ! " 
But be you widow, wife, or maid. 
In blooming" youth, or near the shade 
Of ripened years, where art must hide 
The buffets met on life's rough tide, 
I thank you truly and I know 

My brothers of the foot-board here. 
Express the same, with hearts aglow, 

For praising up the engineer. 


There's a rhyming fit upon me, and its prompt- 
ings I obey. 

In a crude, unmeasured jingle, on this holy Sab- 
bath day. 

As the bells for church are chiming, and I'll note 
some passers by 


And describe them in my stanzas,as familiar ones 
I spy. 

Here comes Egg-leston in meekness, with a hymn 

book in his hand, 
And beside him strides an ang-el by the name of 

L. O. Rand ; 
The}" 're a pious pair of play-boys as e'er punched 

a duplex true, 

Dressed in Sunday-go-to-meetings, for a snooze 
within the pew. 

Dan is something* of an angler, he can '^ whip a 

stream" in style, 
He entices fish from water with a sanctimonious 

In a piscatorial manner he enlarges on his luck, 
And regrets the loss of monsters that escape from 

off his hook. 

Rand is quite a different fellow, one who never 

tells a lie. 
But keeps plodding upward surely to a mansion 

in the sky, 
Charlie Fisk says Rand will get there if St. Peter's 

at the door, 

When he hears him tell a story, he will punch his 
ticket sure. 


Well, my own opinion, truly, of this trio — it is 

this : 
If they ever enter heaven to reside in homes of 

The^^'ll deceive the Chief Conductor,all who know 

them will agree. 
And, besides, dear sinful reader, there's a chance 

for you and me. 

But the bells have ceased their tolling-. I must 
hie me with the throng, 

I regret to close abruptlj^ this discordant, truth- 
ful song'. 

Yet, upon some near occasion I will make a little 

Telling all the Monthly's readers what I know 
about the boys. 

The winter winds whistle, 

The skies frown in wrath, 
Misfortune seems driving 

On merciless path. 

The snow-drifts are piling 
On mountain and moor, 

A sight which is dreadful 
To those who are poor. 


There's joy for the wealthy, 

Whose clothing- is warm 
When Boreas is reigning*. 

The king- of the storm. 


But we who are fig-hting* 
For bread which we eat, 

Must suffer fresh torments 
And luckless defeat. 

Each day bring-s its sorrow. 
And night bring-s no rest, 

Nor hope for the morrow. 
When thus we're oppressed. 

Yet, Hope is a siren. 

She woos us along- 
With coaxing- delusive. 

And false, fickle song-. 

Obscured is the future, 
'Tis dark to our view, 

But onward we're driven 
The path to pursue. 

Perhaps the brig-ht portals 
Of fortune shall ope — 

Ah ! down you deluder, 
That wish sprung- from hope. 



Dear reader, perhaps you have threaded 

The verge of old Satan's domain ; 
Or may be at times you've been wedded, 

To imps which have marched in his train, 
Or suffered in torture and trouble. 

When bumpers of g-rief bubbled o'er. 
If '.:o, all your ills were a bubble. 

Compared with my sorrowful store. 

I am now "in the hands of my printer," 

And " copy " he cries, with a groAvl 
Which sounds like old Boreas in winter. 

When forth full of vengeance he'll howl. 
'Tis "copy " both night, noon, and mornin 

The rascal repeatedly dins ; 
I'd torture the wretch without warning. 

If he were absolved from his sins. 


If dull and insipid I'm feeling, 

'No mercy he shows me at all ; 
But all of my senses go reeling 

When lustily for "copy " he'll bawl. 
I scream in the direst distraction. 

And wander to places alone, 
Where, free from his prying detection, 

In anguish I ruefully moan. 


When whips are cracked tirelessly o'er us, 

The brain will scarce ever reply ; 
'Tis seldom we sing* in free chorus, 

When made by such means to compl3^ ; 
But if we've no fear of a master. 

The Muse will delig-ht on the wing-, 
And " copy " will surely flow faster. 

When thus full of freedom we sing-. 



A Member of One-Fifty-Two 11 

A Reply to Mollie Bawn 2d 

A Reply to Salsie 16 

A Welcome to the Household Yisitor 30 

A Welcome to the Journal 32 

A Prayer 34 

A Trip in Charon's Ferry 49 

A Cold Water Lyric 53 

A Pen Picture 66 

Air Castles 123 

A Reply to a Request 131 

A Vision of the Night 204 

A Happy New Year 260 

A Trip in Dreamland 344 

An Album Rhyme 72 

An Epistle to a Friend 278 

At the Grave of an Infant 302 

A Wedding Present J. T. K 307 

Away with your Flimsy Romances ' 314 

A Negative Yote on the Woman's Department 355 

An Epistle to a Friend 361 

A Song for the Boys 392 

Baby's Welcome 134 

Blighted Hopes 181 

Bury the Past 191 

Come, Boys, Fill Your Glasses 366 

Christmas . 114 

Come Nestle up Closely, My Darling 180 

Church Musings 211 


Come, My Love, with Eaven Tresses 259 

Come, Fill up your Glass to O'erflowing 319 

Christmas Eve in Camp 340 

'• Copy " 410 

Declining Aldermanic Honors 38 

Death Levels All 78 

Dedication Lines, Div. 18 280 

Doctor L. Reynolds 327 

Doubts and Truths 386 

Duty's Call 400 

Evening Chimes 243 

Exit Seventy-Pour 56 

Eighty-Three, Farewell 255 

Father Mathew Temperance Society 149 

Foot-Board Reflections 375 

Hope, the Deceiver 136 

It is Better to Sing 283 

In Memoriam, Phillip Doyle 36 

In Memoriam, J. A. McCarthy 238 

I Cannot Sing To-night, Love 186 

I have Roughed it Along 359 

Kittie, Dear 107 

Loss of the Schooner Jenkins 70 

Little Brown Eyes ^ 323 

Lake Michigan 94 

Loss of the Schooner Persian 145 

Lines at the Request of a Widowed Friend 173 

Memories of Youth 9 

More Trouble 8^ 


My Castle in Spain : 120 

Mollie's "Wooing 125 

Miners' Wages Advanced 247 

My Fireman 276 

Moonlight Fancies 290 

Nudis Verbis 266 

N"euralgia 382 

*' No Smoking on Duty " 363 

Our Letter Carriers 92 

" Only A Tramp " 158 

Organization of Div. 167, 0. R. C 351 

Out of the Shop 188 

Prosperity's Pet 197 

Pour Out a Goodly Cup of Cheer 241 

"Patience" 47 

Pleasure and Pastime 115 

Reflections on Life 192 

Retrospection 227 

Show Mercy to the Erring 129 

Sit You Down at My Side 236 

Some Truth in Rhyme 396 

Sabbath Musings 406 

To the Local Editor, Morning Herald 15 

The Dying Peasant 19 

To the Members of the B. of L. E 24 

To the Author of " Old Tar's Twisters " 26 

To Angeline S 40 

To W. B. Phelps 42 

To Mike of Garryowen 44 

The Good Time Coming 60 

To P. M. Arthur 63 


To Doctor L. Reynolds 75 

The Freaks of Fortune 86 

The Coming of Spring 95 

To An Importunate Contributor 96 

To R. F. Leffin 101 

The Clergy on Hell 104 

The Clam Bake 108 

To " Handy Andy " 250 

To My Blackthorn Canes ' 264 

The Exiles 270 

Two Pictures 271 

To the Members Ladies' Aid Society, Burlington, Iowa. . 284 

The River St. Lawrence 287 

The Exile's Return, 292 

Trials and Tribulations 298 

To the Members of Div. 136, Evanston, "S^^yoming 303 

To A Friend 311 

To A Reporter 316 

To J. D. Hammond 320 

To " Handy Andy " 325 

To Grand Chaplain Everett 336 

To Miss Emma Avery 126 

To the Robin Red-breast 138 

To Mrs. E. M. Hooker 139 

To " Mobilian" 148 

To the Author of " Sunday Labor " 153 

To Doctor Reynolds 160 

The Rhymer to his Pen 162 

To the Centennial Committee 165 

To Madam Rebecca 169 

To C. B. Benson 220 

To Miss Ella Lewis 380 

To Alderman Benz 383 

The Battle of the Clans 230 

The Homeward Bound 215 

The Hats Our Father's Wore 357 

The First Gray Hair 368 


Thanks for a Christmas Turkey 371 

The Joys of Labor 176 

Time's Visit 199 

To the Rev. F. H. Beck 390 

Three Toasts 399 

To Kittie Blaine 403 

The Winter Winds Whistle 408 

Union Meeting, Eoehester, IST. T 233 

Union Meeting, Bangor, Me 330 

Winsome Jennie 333 

Where do the Wicked Sleep ? 156 

Written Under a Photographic Group 394 

You are all that My Fancy can wish for, My Dear 254 

Your Own Native Town 377